Efflorescence
by TCLindsay
Summary: A trip gone wrong. A young woman trapped, injured in the forest. Reliving the horror of the attack of a metal works facility. After being released to her own care a series of events take place that send her spinning into a new war. A war for new Sparks.
1. Prelude

Efflorescence

Prelude: Survival

The faint patter of rain that dripped onto her skin sounded more like marbles shattering a pane of glass. What would have been a cooling and relaxing sensation was more like needles being driven into every inch of exposed skin. Driving lances of pain into her body; causing sparks to dance in front of her eyes. Thunder swiftly followed the rain, crackling inside of her skull as she lay in the undergrowth exhausted. Streaks of mud, blood, and ash littered her skin along with the mix of sunburn and rope burn. What was left of her clothing had been ripped, little more then rags now as she lay under the fern bush feeling the remnants of vertigo leaving her system.

Reeling over onto her side the girl vomited a third time. Strings of bile connected her lips to the ground as she heaved, spitting up some of the ash that had made its way into her lungs. With a grunt of effort she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees coming to a stand by pulling herself up with a rotten log. Chipped and cracked fingernails dug into the moldy wood stirring up several insects that lived in the decayed matter. The sharp tang of rot stifled her breathing, but it could not overcome the smell of blood and vomit. Her feet planted themselves into the ground limping away from her hiding place. She could hear the sounds of a stream not too far away, if she could find that maybe there would be a way out of these woods. It was a half-hearted hope though. The things that attacked the research center had probably killed almost everyone and anyone who survived were probably in the same, or worse, condition she was.

The memory of the attack brought on the vertigo again. Her stomach cramped, her throat constricted and she gagged. Holding her mouth brought some respite to the compulsion to vomit again, but until she could rinse the taste out of her mouth the sensation would always be there at the back of her throat.

"Hang in there, Kathryn," she whispered to herself. Her voice was hoarse and rasped from the rawness of her throat, "hang in there." Kathryn stumbled forward placing a hand against every available tree she could find leaving smudges behind that she dare not look at. A throb ran up the length of her leg, a gash that had been clotted by leaves and other debris of the forest. It wasn't healthy she knew, but it was far better then bleeding to death and from the size of the wound it would have only taken her a matter of minutes to pass out. At this point Kathryn was well into shock her body was shaking and the vertigo wasn't bothering her as much anymore. Survival mode her uncle had called it; when your body numbs itself in order to get help. Kathryn had hoped never to experience it. When her uncle explained his time in the Vietnam War she'd shuddered at the very thought of having to remove her own limb in order to survive. Hopefully that would not be the case and she could find help before it became necessary.

Time was meaningless as Kathryn foraged her way through the dense undergrowth of the coniferous forest that she would normally stride through on any given day. The light was fading and the rain had started to pour. Soon there would be a thick storm overhead and there would be no chance that someone would accidentally stumble upon her prone form if she just lay down. Was it hours, minutes, seconds? Or days that she stumbled around in the woods, trying to hear the sound of the stream over thunder and rain? It was nearly impossible to tell which direction she was moving until her foot caught on a protruding rock, twisting her ankle, and sending Kathryn face first into the moving water.

With a sputtering cough she pushed herself up her face and hair already drenched from the rain. Her hands tapped at the water, her eyes not adjusted to the dark, before bringing her face down and gulping. The water was fresh and clear helping to clear the flavor of her mouth. After several mouthfuls Kathryn pulled herself up moving gingerly so as to not irritate her already injured leg. She was almost grateful that she'd twisted the ankle of her right leg which carried the deep cut across her thigh she wouldn't have two injured legs to walk on in the mean time. Her throat throbbed, the water not quite quenching the burn.

Lightning lanced across the sky startling a shriek out of her lungs. The illumination momentarily highlighted the fog that was rolling into the forest. Water dripped off the greenery onto the ground before the light was suddenly gone. The raucous boom of thunder that followed similarly had her jumping followed by the _rat-at-tat-tat_ of rain pounding down on the maple leaves above her head. Kathryn's entire body shuddered as the sound rattled through her ears. Echoes of missiles crashing, gun fire, screams…

It was another half hour before her stomach had settled enough that she could drink more water. By this point Kathryn had come to terms with the fact that it would be unwise to move around any more at night. It was impossible for her to find a road or building when she couldn't see. Even with the bolts of lightning that continuously cut across the sky there was no chance she could navigate the forest. Instead she pulled her left knee up to her chest and wrapped her arms around it while she shivered. Just like there was no chance for her to navigate, there was no way she would be able to construct a shelter to wait out the rain.

"I h-have to," she stuttered, her teeth chattering together. It felt like they were going to shatter if they hit any harder. "… have to stay awake." Her head drifted down onto her arms. Shoulders shaking in the wind and the rain; in the distance she could hear the sound of wood popping groaning under the pressure of the wind. Lightning bolted across the sky, thunder following soon after booming into existence.

"_Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,_" she whispered in as close to a sing-song voice as she could handle, "_starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;_" her eyes closed as she repeated the lullaby quietly to herself. Her older brother William's wife Janet sung it to their newborn every night to lull him to sleep. It was the same song William's and her mother sang to them when they were little. Janet had never used the custom, but when she'd heard Kathryn's mom sing it to her little grandchild it stuck with her. Kathryn never really realized how beautiful it was until she watched Janet and her mother sing it together while rocking baby Christian to sleep at night. She remembered the soft golden glow of the lamp. The rich brown and earthy tone of the rocking chair, the way the light brought out the wrinkles under her mother's eyes. Those wrinkles were both sad and happy. If her mother had never had kids would she have those wrinkles now? She always said that she and William were responsible for the gray hair on her head.

"_Mermaids are chanting the wild lorelie; over the streamlet vapors are borne,_" Kathryn sang, her voice choking as tears rolled down her cheeks. William was twenty five this year, and she'd be turning eighteen in August. Christian was going to be six months old pretty soon; he was growing up so fast even as a baby. Those bright blue eyes he inherited from his mom, while he got the tawny-brown hair from his dad's side of the family.

Kathryn tightened her hold on her good leg to steady herself while a sob racked through her ribs. She snuffled back against the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. Rain drops giving the illusion that she was crying anyway. Dirt slowly smeared down across her sun tanned and burnt skin. Her eyelids blinked over brown eyes. She was glad Christian hadn't gotten her families boring brown eyes. Brown hair and brown eyes was so common. She wished _she_ could have bright baby blue eyes too, but she was stuck with what she had, but she was glad he had another color other then brown. Even if her mom had always said she and William had "gorgeous" brown eyes. They were bland.

The sudden crack of a falling tree caught her attention; snapping her out of her reprieve. Kathryn pushed herself up, groaning at the pressure on her leg and stumbled a few steps up stream. Her eyes widened, lightning glancing across the sky and illuminating the immediate area. She swallowed against the sticky bile that coated her throat listening intently. With a crack of thunder she screamed, falling backwards into the stream pushing herself away from the opposite bank and up against a tree. Her head whipped from side to side trying to catch a glimpse or flash of metal. The flare of a fuse or burst of a missile being launched, or the sudden and sharp pops of red light that meant bullets were being fired. There was nothing.

"Hello?" she called, to be sure, "is anyone there?" Only the crackle of thunder followed her words. The rain pounding harder and the groan of the trees increasing as the wind picked up. Kathryn huddled against the tree, thankful for the support at the very least. She let her forehead rest against her knee again, her side pressing up against the tree feeling the bite of the bark on the exposed skin of her shoulder. With a sigh she returned to singing the lullaby, her voice tired and sore. If only she could stay awake until the storm broke morning couldn't be that far away could it?

It wasn't long before shock and exhaustion won over her resolve. Kathryn was curled up at the base of the tree, her injured right leg sticking out from her body with her foot in the stream as the storm continued to rage on well past midnight. When she'd crossed the stream it had barely made it past the ten o'clock hour. It wouldn't be until five o'clock in the morning before the sun peeked its way through and even then that was only if the storm let up.

By two o'clock in the morning the lightning had diminished and the thunder was a distant rumble. It was still pouring outside and her entire body was soaked through. The leaves, dirt, and debris that clotted the wound in her leg were slowly oozing out of her skin, loosening and the faint crunch of approaching footsteps went unheard until they were close and even then Kathryn didn't quite wake up a slow groan escaping her lips as blinding lights flashed down from above.

"I've found one," called a voice. The crunch of wood snapping and breaking followed as more voices joined the first.

"She's badly damaged, should we not leave her and look for other survivors?" said another voice, this one far gruffer then the first. Kathryn moved, pulling an arm across her side and trying to open her eyes, but they were badly encrusted. It was painful to try and open them. She tried to push herself up, tried to lean against the tree, but a pressure on her back stopped her.

"Settle yourself youngling," said yet a third voice, this one older and calming, "we will be doing no such thing. The child needs medical attention. We can transport her and still search for others." He was obviously speaking to the person who opted to leave her behind. Kathryn felt a cold pressure being applied to her leg before something hot and wet spread over the skin. Red lanced across her closed eyes, her teeth grinding against themselves as the pain twined itself up to her hips like a hot rod iron. There was a muttered curse she couldn't quite understand as more pressure applied itself to her leg slowing the blood flow. The rain was falling on top of something metal the patter reaching her ears, and wasn't falling on top of her even though she was lying in the grass. Her brain was fogged and she couldn't quite remember how she'd gotten here in the first place. The crunching sound increased and a sharp pain stabbed its way into her leg before a flood of relief washed through her system. The pain reliever they gave her acted almost immediately. Distantly she could feel the pressure of what they were doing, field dressing her leg and checking her over for any other severe damage, but Kathryn was soon higher then a kite; a blanket soon being wrapped around her body once her leg was bandaged.

Kathryn was slowly slipping into a fog of unconsciousness and only distantly felt her body being lifted onto a stretcher. That made no sense, how could there be a stretcher and a vehicle? Was she closer to the road then she thought she had been? But no, no it couldn't have been a stretcher because she was soon lying on top of leather padded seats, hot air flowing from the vents. The warm purr of a diesel motor caressed her ears and voices speaking in the background about searching in a grid pattern to discover other survivors. Someone was asked to remain here to keep her warm and safe; to radio back if there were any difficulties. Kathryn snuggled herself into the blanket wrapped around her pillowing her head on top of her arm. Her head wasn't throbbing any more and she couldn't feel her leg. It was all rather unnerving, but she couldn't concentrate long enough to be concerned.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Beginnings

"_Ma_, where are my _keys_?" Kathryn yelled up the stairs. When silence followed her question she huffed into the air and threw her arms up in exasperation. "_Ma_!" she yelled again.

"If you want to talk to me you can come upstairs," her mother yelled back. Kathryn slapped her hand against her forehead, drawing it slowly down her face. Her room down in the basement and it was completely ripped apart. She'd been searching for the keys to her '87 Kawasaki KZ305, but she hadn't been able to find them. There were clothes littered on the floor, papers everywhere, and her cat Jojo snuggled up right in the middle of her bed. Jojo was a lovely little Siamese; very petite and lady-like accept when it came to her eating habits. She greatly enjoyed the heads of baby bunny rabbits.

Kathryn ran up the stairs, her feet pounding in her rush. She turned once she got to the top only to practically run right into her mom. Kathryn struggled to keep herself from falling backwards, pin-wheeling her arms slightly.

"Mom," she said, but her mother cut her off by swinging a set of keys on her right index finger. Kathryn's shoulders relaxed with a sigh of relief. "Where were they?" Kathryn's mom didn't look very amused with her daughter. Her own brown eyes looked through gray-lanced brown hair down at her daughter.

"They were on the key hook where they were suppose to be and," she said, her eyes looking at her daughter from foot to the top of her head, "you are going _nowhere_ on that motorcycle of yours dressed like _that_." Kathryn was wearing a pair of blue jeans, the boots she normally wore when she went for a ride on her bike, and a plain blue tank top that cut slightly low. Her shoulder length ochre hair was pulled back behind her head with a rubber band at the nape of her neck. Her hair wasn't nearly as dark as her mom's had been, probably because her dad had been a blonde.

"Mom, c'mon there's nothing wrong with it. Hardly _anything_ is showing, it's too hot to wander around on the tour in anything else," her mother could be exasperating sometime. Heaven forbid any skin, sunburnt, tanned, or pasty white should be seen on _her_ daughter. "Besides I'm turning _eighteen_ this year, you can't keep–"

"I wasn't referring to your choice of clothing," her mother said, her voice dropping an octave. That was a sure sign that Kathryn was starting to aggravate her mom. "I was referring to that bike of yours. If you crash you're going to get covered in road burn and heaven knows what else. I told you when you bought that thing that you would be wearing your leathers _and_ helmet _every_ time you ride it." Her mom slapped the keys into Kathryn's outstretched hand. "I don't understand why you won't just take my car, you're driving up to Bemidji and it's the busy season."

"You _know_ I can't stand that thing," Kathryn argued back, pulling her leather chaps and jacket out of the hallway closet. Her backpack was already packed for the over-nighter she'd be spending in some rinky-dink town up north.

"It's got a five star safety test rating; it gets forty miles to the gallon highway," her mother started to argue. Kathryn scowled at her mom, pushing her bangs out of her face. "Unless of course you're–" her mom started to say.

"_Mother_," Kathryn interrupted, "I don't care what your high and fancy-to-do shrink says. Admitting it _won't_ help got it?" Kathryn was claustrophobic and her mother had spoken to a psychologist about it several times and now seemed to think she was equipped to deal with it. "I feel like some, some… I don't know, second rate freak because of it alright?" Irrational fear just wasn't her thing, but every time Kathryn had attempted to get inside of her mother's Prius she'd had a sever panic attack. The thing was an older model and it wasn't quite as luxurious on space as the newer ones were. Every time she sat down in it and closed the door her breathing became labored and even though she could see out of the windows, even with the windows rolled down, she felt trapped. Putting the seat belt on didn't help. Anything that came in close against her body, other then her clothing, would trigger an attack.

When Kathryn was about twelve or thirteen years old, she couldn't remember, there'd been a nasty storm outside in their old place. Her mom wasn't home yet and William had gone out to hang with his friends assuming his mother would be home to watch his little sister. The storm winds had gotten up to one hundred miles an hour causing the house to shake and rattle. Kathryn had hid herself inside of the closet, but when a tree fell on top of the house she'd been trapped inside until her mom and the fire crew had been able to get her out. By that point she'd made a mess of herself.

Her mom leaned in and wrapped her arms around Kathryn, ignoring the way her daughter stiffened. Even human contact, a hug, someone being too close, could cause a panic attack. Most of the time, like now, Kathryn could handle it, but it was still uncomfortable. Her mom let go of her only a short time later and tried to hide the hurt she felt when Kathryn sighed with relief.

"Alright," she said, "but be careful. I wish you'd consider letting me buy you one of those trucks… One of those big monsters, you don't seem to have too much trouble with them." It was true, for some reason larger vehicles didn't frighten her as much. Maybe it was because she was so busy listening to the purr of that powerful engine, a purr that put Jojo to shame.

"Ma, I know you want to, but I told you," this was an old debate between mother and daughter, "I want to save up for one on my own and you still owe me that girl's trip out to California for my tattoo." No sooner had she said those words than her mother's face started to turn red. Her eyes sparked almost like lightning, but before her mother could explode about how tattoos were for street-bikers Kathryn leaned in, kissed her mother on the cheek, scooped up her bag and helmet before ducking out the door. "Love ya ma! See you tomorrow!"

"Don't think you've gotten out of this discussion!" her mother yelled, "Love you too."

The poor old thing that was her motorcycle had seen better days. Together with her older brother William they'd managed to fix the engine up, replacing roughly eighty five percent of what was original with new parts. The gas tank which had originally been red was now peeling, rust had managed to encrust some of it and get under the paint. Living in Minnesota did that to all vehicles because of the heavy winter and the salt. When she'd bought it the owner had left it sitting on the side of the road all winter, but because of that she'd been able to talk him down to five hundred bucks primarily because it no longer run and it would need a lot of restoration work. Something her brother intended to do during his college courses. William was the one with the talent, Kathryn was really just a jack of all trades, master of none and couldn't focus on anything long enough to get really good at it.

It took only a few seconds to slide her chaps on, secure them and put on her leather jacket. Helmet following and slinging her backpack over her shoulders Kathryn straddled the bike and hit the ignition, turning her key and hearing the tell-tale roar of the bike. The sensation of the engine reverberating against her legs sent a reckless smile across her lips. She patted the gas tank before swiping the kick stand off the ground and backing up, her feet just barely managing to touch the ground. Being only five feet four inches tall made it difficult for her to ride her bike, but after a lot of practice she'd learned how to do it. Once she was turned around she revved the engine earning a reproachful look from their neighbor. In the middle of summer most of their neighbors spent their time outside and didn't appreciate the noise of her bike. All she could smell at that point was the delicious scent of freshly mowed grass and the flowers in her mother's garden outside of their house, but the smell of last night's rain was still clinging to every wet blade of grass and the leaves of the maple trees out front.

Kathryn was already cooking and the sooner she got onto the highway and into the breeze the better. Once she was outside of Duluth on the highway to her destination somewhere a little north of Bemidji she'd strip off her leather jacket at the very least, it was way too warm to be wearing the damn thing besides she had a jean jacket packed in her backpack. She'd put that on instead.

Once she'd managed to get through the morning traffic Kathryn turned off on the road that would lead her off towards Bemidji where she'd turn off and head deeper into the woods. The facility she'd been invited to tour with perspective college students was way out in the boonies. Evidently it was some kind of testing facility. The only reason she was going was to try and make a good impression on the college professor who'd asked her to join them. He worked at the University she was interested in going to, but getting in was a little hard so she hoped to show that she was willing to work a little harder to get in, maybe he'd put a good word in for her. The invitation had seemed a little fishy though. Maybe it was the way he looked her up and down before inviting her, or maybe… Kathryn shook her head from side to side. She'd stopped a while back to put her lighter jean jacket on, packing away her leather jacket

The drive to Brigsby Minnesota took the better part of seven hours. The tour wasn't scheduled to begin until eight that evening, which gave Kathryn time to check into her motel room and take a shower after the long sweaty drive. When she'd looked up Brigsby online she wasn't surprised to see that it was pretty much a one horse kind of town. There was no school, the kids were bussed off to a larger city, and there was _a_ gas station, _a_ courthouse/post office, _a _tiny gift shop and _a_ grocery store. The motel she was staying at was _technically_ outside of city limits and supposedly didn't count as part of the town.

It was a broken down little thing that was probably experiencing the busiest night of the summer so far. All of the would-be students who had opted to go on the tour of the research facility had booked a room at this no-named motel. The insides, thankfully, were in better condition then the outside. Kathryn, according to the sign-in sheet the processor had left, was one of the first to check in. With her key in hand, given to her by the sullenly bored desk clerk, she made her way to room number 4 where she'd be staying that night. As soon as the mandatory bug check had been preformed Kathryn stripped herself down and showered using the soap, shampoo, and conditioner she'd brought from home. She hated using the stuff motels and hotels provided their guests. It always dried out her hair and made it frizzy. The water was surprisingly soft in comparison to the tap water back home; she couldn't even smell any kind of chemical treatment. It had to have been well water.

Three p.m. came and went while she was in the shower, having reached town roughly about two-two thirty. The tour of the facility wasn't scheduled until eight o'clock, but Kathryn had come early hoping she could have a look around the place on her own before they were rushed through on what would be a crowded tour, but one call to the facility burned those plans. They weren't open during the day which struck odd with Kathryn, but she supposed it didn't matter. With a look around at the dusky brown room with it's single bed side table, lamp, and crème colored sheets she decided the best thing to do was to go out and have a look around the town before getting something to eat. She just hoped to pick up something microwavable from the grocery store, or a cold sandwich maybe. How could this town not have a Subway at least?

As it turned out there had been a Subway at one point, but it had been closed down earlier in the year due to renovations. Kathryn was definitely out of the city now, not that she minded too much. It was kind of a neat place with ever-green trees surrounding most everything; long needles bouncing the sun off their length with the almost tangy scent that perforated the air. There was a lake with a few docks just behind the gift shop for fishing and currently a group of kids were in the water screaming with laughter. One by one they dunked each other into the brown colored water. A lot of the lakes in Minnesota she knew were brackish, dark colored, because of the types of rock, sand, and vegetation that were swallowed up in the water. It was a startling contrast to the blue colored water of Lake Superior and from what she could hear this lake was a lot warmer or the new trio of kids wouldn't have been jumping right in.

When Kathryn made it to the grocery store she was in luck. Because of the lack of a restaurant the owner of the store had set up an area where customers could sit down and eat what they'd purchased if they were staying at the local motel. Once she'd purchased a deli sandwich, salad, and bottled water Kathryn chose a spot off in the corner of the little sitting room. Once she'd settled in she took the time to look at the other customers who'd chosen to eat here at the store like she had. All of them looked roughly her age, possibly others waiting to take a tour, but the man who approached her table was definitely not a prospective student.

Grey streaked blonde haired with a crew cut fit for military life-style the man had a goatee that was three shades darker then the hair on the top of his head. His grey eyes looked her up and down while his thin lips smiled over perfectly straight teeth. Together with a slightly squared off chin and moderately muscular body this was the type of guy that could get any girl to fall head over heels for him. Any girl, that is, who would be interested in a guy who was so full of himself that he sat down in the seat opposite her without asking permission.

Up close Kathryn had to admit that he was quite the looker… for a forty-odd year old man. He wore one of those plain white t-shirts that were shaped to accent any muscle, or fat, a guy had on his body. A pair of faded black jeans and a simple black belt around his waist with military grade boots on his feet. Definitely one of those guys who didn't like a complicated wardrobe. Kathryn took another bite out of her sandwich and turned to the side, pulling out her cell phone and keying up a book to read on the application she'd recently downloaded. Just because the guy had sat here didn't mean she had to talk to him. Kathryn didn't think herself the prom queen beauty type so unless he was here for an easy ride or to just bother her she didn't know, but she wasn't some stupid chick who let anything a guy say go to her head.

He just sat there. Watching her while she finished what was left of her sandwich and started on her salad. It was like he was waiting for just the right opportunity to engage her in conversation. Unfortunately Kathryn wasn't normally that delicate with her silver ware and as soon as she'd turned the 'page' on her book and reached for her fork again she bumped it and the black bit of plastic silverware went straight for the floor.

With a start Kathryn sat up straight, reaching for the fork only to grab a rough and callused hand instead. A crawl raced down her spine at the split-second's contact with the older man's hand before she ripped her own away, looking over at the grey-eyed forty-some year old man. He smiled, flashing a grin she was certain he'd worked on in a mirror for hours a day until he got it 'just right.' His grin might have gotten other women to woo over him, but it sent Kathryn's stomach into knots. She just about felt sick when he tried to offer her fork back.

"You uh, dropped this," he said. His voice was slightly accented and she suspected he came from further down south, but not too far. There wasn't enough there to pinpoint where he came from. She placed the lid on top of her salad and shrugged. If she could give him the hint hard and fast maybe he'd leave her alone. After touching him even for that split second she wasn't feeling hungry anymore.

"Uh, yeah," she said "I know that." An embarrassed look crossed his face, blush and all, that looked real enough, but the way his eyes seemed to laugh at her told her it was fake. He was good, but she suspected even he knew just how fake he was. His skin now that she really looked at it was really tanned like he never spent a day inside in his life which was a really strange off set to the grey and blonde hair on his head. He waited while Kathryn eyed him up, his grin turning to one of those slow and easy heart-melters.

"Sorry," he said, but he didn't sound sorry at all. "I guess I just reacted too quickly, you were pretty fast too though," Kathryn rolled her eyes faintly as the guy leaned forward, offering out the hand that wasn't holding his fork. "My name is John Wright, kind of a plain name I know, but what can I say?" he winked at her, actually _winked_. Kathryn knew this guy was trying to get something because she wasn't worth quite the effort this guy was putting up to get her to talk to him. Sure there was something attractive about her tawny colored hair, and maybe some people found brown eyes charming, but the uneven tan and the often sun burnt appearance of her skin wasn't something people would find attractive in a woman. Not only that but she had a small bust and was only faintly curvy.

That wasn't to say she wasn't _pretty_, just not the material a guy like him normally went after. Busty, beautiful, golden hair, bright blue eyes, supple lips, a big trunk, and a small brain were probably his normal targets. Evidently a tour of the local research facility didn't bring in the cheerleading squad if he was trying to talk to her.

"So I uh," he said with a nervous chuckle, "I'm guessing you're one of the students who's going on a tour of the facility outside of town?" he asked. Kathryn picked up her salad container and sandwich wrapper, stuffing her bottle of water into her backpack.

"Yep," she said and not giving him any more then that.

"You realize that you'll be picked up by a bus right? You won't be allowed to ride out there in your own vehicles. What I heard from the other students was that the professor was going to pick you all up in a short bus." He flashed another grin his one eye a little more shut then the other to accentuate his grey colored eyes. His eyes frightened her out the most. She didn't know another living being that could mimic emotion in otherwise dead eyes. It was like they were made out of flat paint. Just grey, that was all there was surrounding the black iris. Kathryn stood up to leave merely shrugging her shoulders.

"Yep," she said again and without saying good bye she pushed herself out of the chair and turned her back on him. Kathryn heard the loud scrape of a chair being pushed back, the faint clatter of a plastic fork being dropped on the floor before a vice like grip wrapped around her upper arm close to her shoulder. His fingers dug into her under arm while the palm of his hand pressed tight against the skin of her lower shoulder. There was a sharp pain like a sting, his hand tightening as he wrenched her around, spinning her. Kathryn shrieked slightly as he put his other hand on her opposite shoulder, holding her in front of him.

"Where're you off to in such a hurry?" that grin was still plastered on his lips and it terrified her to feel how tightly he was holding onto her arms. Kathryn was standing face to face with him, but now other people were paying attention to the sudden movement. The clerk behind the counter was paying particular attention. He was the owner of the grocery store. "Can't I at least get your name? C'mon show me some friendly hospitality." Kathryn felt goose flesh roll up her arms and across her neck, wishing she'd worn a long sleeved shirt instead of her tank top. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as if they'd been touched with static electricity.

"Kathryn Laski," she said. Kathryn wrenched her arms, "now let go of me." More people were staring now, but it still took him a few moments before releasing her arms. The way he looked at her made Kathryn wonder if they had been alone would he have let go? John shrugged his shoulders and took a step back. The smug grin that spread across his features sent panicked chills down Kathryn's spine. Her stomach twisted itself into knots, she felt like she was going to be sick.

"Another time then," he said, before walking past her allowing his shoulder to brush hers a laugh following him while he walked out the door. Kathryn stood where she was, wrapping a hand around her right shoulder where she'd felt that sting. It was only a dull ache now. What could he have done to cause that?

"Miss," came an older voice from behind her. Kathryn whipped around to see the sixty-some year old store owner. He had a growing bald spot at the top of his head, his grey hair carefully combed over the offending skin. Deep set wrinkles around his eyes gave him the kind old man appearance while hazel eyes stared out from under bushy eyebrows. He had a hand resting on his pot belly, back bent slightly from a long day of work. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks," Kathryn replied acting braver then she actually was. It was then that she saw something behind the counter she didn't expect. Settled on the back shelf where he kept his cigarettes was a .22 rifle. The old grocery store owner noticed where she was looking and his pale cheeks took on a faint rosy completion.

"I haven't felt the need to take that old thing out for a while," he admitted, "but when I saw that man grab you I just had this weird feeling he was up to no good," there was a shaky laugh that came out of his chest, slightly wheezy when he coughed. "I thought I was going to have myself another heart attack just holding that thing. I was awfully glad when he walked away and let you alone."

"So was I," she said. "Thank you for your concern, but I think I'm going to go back to my motel room."

"That's probably a good idea Miss. A man like that, he's a predator. You can see it in his eyes. We get them around here, now and again, but they don't stay long. They know that there are a few of us that would love dearly to put a bullet between their eyes and none of us would flinch away from it." Kathryn said good bye to the old man and exited the building, walking out to her motorcycle. She was thankful to find that Mr. John Wright had left and wasn't waiting for her outside. Kathryn slid her jean jacket on and settled her helmet onto her head, strapping it tight and flipping the kickstand up on her bike. The throttle roared slightly making her feel a little better. She needed to feel a little bit of control after what had happened.

Upon returning to her motel room she discovered that John Wright had been telling the truth. There was a notice on her door to meet up in the parking lot at six o'clock to take a bus to the facility which was evidently another hour and a half outside of town. Brigsby was the closest town to the facility evidently which is why they were requested to make reservations at the local motel. Seeing as it had barely hit four thirty Kathryn decided _another_ shower was in order before she went out with the other students. She wanted to wash the guy off her skin. He hadn't even done anything to her and she felt molested. The very thought of his hands against her shoulders sent another wave of shivers through her system, her entire spine shaking at the thought.

Once finished with her shower, her hair towel dried and brushed back into another set of rubber bands Kathryn walked outside to join some of the other would-be college students to wait for the bus to show up. She was wearing a less tattered pair of blue jeans with a black belt and had traded the blue tank top for a darker blue t-shirt. Her jean jacket was settled over one arm. The newest addition to her ensemble was the single cell-phone like case that rested hooked on her belt. She'd thought her mother was crazy buying her the taser, but after what'd just happened she'd clipped it on her belt just in case rather then keep it inside of her backpack back in her room where it would be useless.

It wasn't long before one of those extra long super sized vans pulled up in the parking lot, Professor Ivan in the driver's seat of what looked like a recently purchased vehicle. It was dark blue and had a weird logo on the side like some kind of red face looking thing, the earth behind it, and some kind of strange pattern wrapping around them both. They almost looked like shooting stars surrounding the logo. Once he'd taken roll call and double checked to make certain everyone was there he gave the order to pile into the van. Kathryn was squashed up against the outside door of the van, sharing her seat with a pair of guys who looked more like the type to go after a football scholarship rather then go to a research facility. Unfortunately for her these were the two she was forced to sit next to for the entire hour and a half drive to the research facility, grateful when she managed to hop out of the van and stretch the kink out of her back looking forward to walking around rather then being crushed between two meat-headed lack-luster individuals and the door. Frankly she would have had an easier time having a conversation with the door, but at least they were here… even if 'here' wasn't very impressive.

The facility was a single story brick building that had no fences or guards around it. It was the kind of place you expected to blend into the background and to not be noticed. Maybe that was the point, though Kathryn had a sense that this place couldn't be that important or there would be guards all over the place.

"You know the rules," said the Professor. "Keep your hands to yourself and if you have to ask a question please be certain it is an _intelligent_ one." Like the last time Kathryn had met Professor Ivan she was surprised at his lack of an accent. He looked to be in his thirties, youngish complexion, Caucasian skin, blue eyes, black hair and wearing a simple pair of kaki slacks, black dress shoes, and a silvery-grey polo. Together with the students he led them to the facility where they were asked to keep their hands to themselves _again_ before they were allowed into the facility.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Chance Encounter

"We require that you surrender your cell phones and any mp3 devices here please," said the tour guide. Her ebony skin seemed to contrast with the white lab coat in a stunning way making her skin look soft and supple. Brown-black eyes looked out from below tightly braided black hair as one by one, willingly or not so willingly, the kids handed over their cell phones and mp3 players writing out a tag and putting it in the bag with them. Several of the kids argued about keeping their iPods and other devices safe. Kathryn handed over her cell phone without argument. She'd already turned it off because it was rude to be listening to someone only for an annoying ringer to start going off in the middle of an interesting discussion.

Kathryn settled herself into the middle of the pack of kids though some of them looked to be well into their twenties. They were led inside an area that looked more high tech then the modest exterior. Sheer white walls contrasted against the stainless steel work tables. The whirr of large machines in the background was a constant tune of mechanical rhythm. Even if the students had their phones there was little chance they would have been able to hear the most raucous ringer over the mayhem. One by one the students were given a set of ear muffs that held radios in the core of the right ear and a microphone leading down to just in front of their mouths. The gaudy orange things needed serious adjusting for each student.

"My name," said their guide, "is Dr. Anna Keswick. You may call me Dr. Keswick or Mrs. Keswick," her eyes roamed over the group before settling on Professor Ivan, "I don't know why Professor Cross insisted on bringing you on this tour since I know many of you will not understand the finer points of even the simplest aspects of the physics involved." Kathryn rolled her eyes very slightly at the haughty tone Dr. Keswick adopted. Most, if not all, of the young adults present had yet to go to school or choose their major. If this was how Dr. Keswick attempted to interest them in physics than she was failing. The Doctor suddenly straightened her back, catching Kathryn rolling her eyes, and gripped the packets of papers tightly.

"Furthermore," she continued. Offering out the paper booklets to the assembled students, "our benefactors and the board of directors have seen fit to acquiesce to his request." She paused in dislike over the concept. "Do not think we are lacking in security. This facility is being monitored by highly advanced and sensitive technology." Her chin rose up in pride before looking down her nose at them. Why would they have a facility like this so far out in the middle of nowhere? That was the thought on Kathryn's mind while she followed the group into the next room.

Kathryn was surprised to see a lot of metal inside instead of chemical compounds and lab rats. That would account for the noise. Metal groaned and snapped; letting off a sound like a gunshot. Kathryn could hear all of it even through the ear muffs they had been asked to wear. Other then one or two people overseeing everything there was hardly anyone working. The room took up most of the building space; the walls again were white while all the equipment was made of steel. Some of the metal that was being tested had strange multi-tones lancing through their cores. Even more sheets of metal were being stored in plastic bins. Bits and pieces being chipped away by something half resembling a machine gun turret; there was one piece of metal that felt like a void. The color was a flat black and seemed to absorb the light surrounding it.

"As you can see," said Dr. Keswick over the radio, "we are stress testing these new alloys to ascertain their durability and flexibility. Attempting to create a metal that can survive the most extreme situations, but remain pliable enough to shape into what we require." The students stopped in front of one machine that was bending a two inch thick piece of metal that had green undertones in the otherwise coppery color. With a groan the metal suddenly bent in a smooth formation and the machine stopped.

"Much of the metal we create is not perfect, but none of it goes to waste. We are able to melt it back down and separate it into its individual components to reuse in a new formula," moving onto a new machine they watched as a man wearing a hazmat suit sprayed something over a piece of metal on both sides before placing it inside of a machine that proceeded to twist the metal. "Here," said Dr. Keswick, "we are attempting to create a coating that will hopefully soften the metal to the point that it can first make into a thin strip and then hardened. If we were to succeed we may be able to create thinner tank armor that would be just as difficult to pierce as their current armor, but make the tank lighter and more able to navigate the terrain."

Dr. Keswick led them further explaining the different pieces of equipment as they went along, but Kathryn was lost in her thoughts. A strange weight seemed to loom over her heart as she listened to all these advantages to _military_ armament. Wouldn't these kinds of things make it safer for people to drive? People like her father?

Kathryn remembered when she first asked her mom if she had a dad. Her mom had been all but in tears when her daughter, at eight years of age, asked her. Kathryn had been being made fun of in school about not having a dad so she was going to ask her mom why she couldn't have a dad too. It seemed silly now thinking about how, if her mom said she never had a dad, she was going to ask if they could get one. Like you could go out and buy one at a super market. Her mom promised that later she'd explain why she didn't have a dad, but not until she was older. When she finally explained what had happened to Kathryn's dad…

Semi trucks and a little coupe just… didn't mix. Kathryn had been two years old, too young to know her dad. She'd never known him, never missed him, but she'd always been curious about him. What was he like? Would he be proud of her? Would he play with her brother's kid in the same silly way William did?

Why weren't they using this technology to make it safer for people to be out driving? If what the Doctor said was true and they could make a metal that could harden at the flip of a switch with a slight volt of electricity going through it, making it impenetrable, why weren't they considering using it in cars and trucks? What about shelters for hurricanes? Kathryn could think of a number of uses for such technology, but then again being military funded it made sense that they would want to use the technology to protect their soldiers.

Kathryn was slowly lagging behind the rest of the students, paying less and less attention to what the Doctor was saying. Her brown eyes flicked to something she saw sitting in the corner which really didn't fit in with the rest of the equipment. A Porsche Carrera GT. The thing was gaudy at best. It's primarily white body with red-orange and green stripes, but there was something endearing about the car. The group moved on leaving Kathryn behind. Not even Professor Ivan noticed when she broke off from the group to take a look at the car. Kneeling down she took a look at the side of the vehicle, running an appreciative eye along the soft curves and the streamlined design of the vehicle. She didn't touch it, but moved around to the front grill before she noticed the same face-logo that had been on the van, but it was just the face; a small silver face that blended in with the grill. Her head tilted, but then there was a slight movement in her hair and her hair band fell out.

"Damn it," she growled, turning to look for the band. A hand came out of nowhere offering out the black rubber band. Kathryn glanced up and noticed Professor Ivan was holding it out for her. With a slightly shaking hand Kathryn took it from him before pulling her hair back.

"I'm sorry Professor, I guess I got distracted," Kathryn said, fastening her hair back with the rogue rubber band.

"You zoned out quite a while ago," said Professor Ivan, "I'm surprised you didn't stop earlier, something on your mind?" Kathryn stood up, dusting her pants off in a nervous gesture.

"Was it really that obvious?" Thankfully the rest of the students were too far away to hear them over the radio. They were low frequency meaning they had to stay close. "I guess I was just thinking." The Professor looked her over, his eyes going to the vehicle behind her before he set a hand on top of it.

"You're a pacifist aren't you?" the Professor asked.

"A what?" Kathryn looked up at him confused. Had he insulted her?

"Someone who doesn't like violence," explained Professor Ivan, "real violence anyway," he continued. "A lot of pacifists have no difficulty watching movies, playing games, or even reading books that contain violence, but that's because it's make-believe, not real and all."

"Professor Ivan, I'm sorry I–" Kathryn stammered, "I didn't mean to insinuate that it's not understandable to use this stuff for the military, it's just, I…" She stopped, realizing the Professor was laughing. A smile broke out on his face even while Kathryn's own mouth was open slightly from shock. He looked up at her and all the amusement drained out of his face replaced by something she almost thought was akin to longing.

"You remind me of your father when you do that," he said. Kathryn took a step back, her hip bumping in against the front end of the Porsche. "He was always so concerned about what he said or did, making sure that he never stepped on anyone's toes." The Professor studied her face for a moment, nodding as if confirming something. "You look a lot like him; same brown eyes, always curious."

A lot of questions ran through her mind. Dopy ones like _you knew my father?_ Or _how did you know my dad?_ All those different kinds of phrases she'd heard on movies when the main character found out about their parent from another person. All Kathryn could do was stare at Professor Ivan, completely at a loss of what to say.

"If this is a prank, it isn't funny," she said instead, her voice a low hiss. Kathryn narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, and leaned onto one leg looking up at the Professor. "And," she continued, "I don't appreciate it." The Professor seemed taken aback, like he'd expected her to jump at the idea he knew her father. Kathryn wasn't giving him that. He had nothing to say and instead looked down at the vehicle that was parked there, patting the hood of the vehicle slightly.

"I wish it were a prank, though it would be in bad taste," said the Professor, "but I did know your father and so did some others I would like to introduce you to," the Professor looked between the vehicle and where the students had exited to see where the rejected metal was melted down to be reused. "One of them is here right now, if he'd be willing to–" There was a sudden blare of alarms as the car suddenly let off with its anti-theft device. The lights were flashing, the horn was honking, and a mechanical voice continued to say "step away from the vehicle". The professor cursed and ran over to the driver's side door, pulling it open and yelling at the vehicle. Kathryn stood back and watched the Professor struggled to turn off the anti-theft alarm with some amusement.

With a sudden _whoop-whoop_ the vehicle's alarms shut off and the Professor untangled himself from the door, muttering something under his breath before he kicked the tire. Kathryn waited for the alarm to turn back on, but there was only silence. The professor waved his hand to her and together they walked away from the Porsche. The professor made to wrap his arm around her shoulders, but thought the better of it.

"Maybe now isn't the best time to introduce you two," said Professor Ivan. _Fine with me_, thought Kathryn while the professor led the way to the door the other students had entered through. _I'm not exactly interested to talk to someone I only recently met about my dad, especially when I have doubts he ever met my dad._ Professor Ivan held the door open for her and Kathryn walked in under his gaze. Now that he'd talked to her it was like he couldn't stop looking at her.

A scream ripped through the room and one of the female students was shrieking, holding her head and batting at a dark little creature that was flying around the room squeaking faintly. The scream was excessively loud because of the radios, forcing Kathryn to rip her own off and expose her ears to the sounds of the machinery. Kathryn looked up, sliding her jean jacket off of her waist as the bat flew from one corner of the room to the next, one of the boys grabbed a metal pipe and was about to swing it when Professor Ivan griped the pipe in one hand, pulling it down. Kathryn darted forward at one of the other girls who hadn't finished screaming, the bat flying around before it finally landed on the floor in front of the hysteric blonde.

"Ew, ew, _ew_!" she shrieked, pulling her foot up in an attempt to crush the bat. Kathryn ducked down and under, laying her jean jacket over the bat, covering it and huffing as the girl's foot connected with her back. "Kill it, _kill it_!" the girl shrieked, kicking at Kathryn's side in an attempt to make her move. Kathryn lowered herself, feeling as every impact of the pointed shoe connected with her ribs. One of the foot-ball jocks grabbed the screaming blonde and pulled her away from Kathryn and as quickly as she could Kathryn bundled her jean jacket around the little rodent and stood up, holding him under the crook of one arm with a flap of her jacket covering him.

"That is _disgusting_," one of the other girls, a black-haired one this time, said. "Why would you want to save _it_?" Kathryn looked over at her with a perplexed look across her face, not understanding what she was saying. Professor Ivan walked up and placed Kathryn's ear muffs over her ears again, blocking out the loud industrial sounds around her.

"Excuse _me_," Dr. Keswick said over the radio, "but if you would please _stop_ screaming Ms. Jackson," the blonde was still hysterical, slashing her long finger nails through her hair and screaming. "Ms. _Jackson_!" Dr. Keswick yelled over the radio, making all the other students flinch from the volume. Finally the blonde stopped shrieking, looking this way and that. Her hair was tangled and deeply knotted from her fit. Her eyes were streaked from the mascara; tears were still dripping down her eyes when she looked up. Professor Ivan walked over to her to make certain she was alright before Dr. Keswick turned and stared down at Kathryn.

"If you would be so kind," her words sounded sour as if Kathryn had done something wrong, "to take your little friend outside. We have several bat houses situated around the facility." Kathryn hesitated for a minute, uncertain if this was such a good idea. She felt the bat move slightly in her jacket. "Right _now_ Ms. Laski," said Dr. Keswick. Kathryn snapped out of her daze and turned, pushing the door open with her shoulder and walking back out through the machine room and back into the lobby.

"Kathryn, wait up a moment," came a familiar voice when she took off the ear muffs, looking up to find Professor Ivan doing the same thing. "I'll show you where the bat enclosures are and I would like to finish speaking with you if that's alright." It wasn't alright, but Professor Ivan was already holding the door open for her. Kathryn took a deep breath, readying herself to explain to him that she wanted nothing to do with him at all just as a blonde and green eyed missiel came ripping out from a side door, latching itself onto her leg and waist. Kathryn grunted from the impact, looking down as the little girl sobbed into the waist of her jeans. Green eyes looked up to her, snot running down the child's nose, tears dripping from her eyes.

"Don't kill it, please don't kill it. It didn't hurt you!" she sobbed, grabbing onto Kathryn's shirt and pulling on her. Kathryn was at a loss of what to say. Here she was trying to get the bat outside and this little eight-year old had just latched herself onto Kathryn's jeans and was begging her not to kill the bat.

"Tabitha? What are you doing out here, I told you if you were going to come up here with me you had to stay in that room!" The Professor said in a harsh tone. Tabitha, obviously the little girl, ignored him, grabbing another fistful of Kathryn's shirt, forcing Kathryn to bend down unless she wanted the fabric to rip. It wasn't one of those extra durable shirts to begin with. The girl ignored the professor, continuing to sob into Kathryn's shirt until Kathryn finally had to bend down, using her other arm to wrap over the girl's shoulders. Tabitha was shaking with sobbing, grabbing at Kathryn's shirt over her breasts and pulling.

"Hey," said Kathryn, trying to adopt the soothing tone her mom used around Kathryn's nephew, "hey, it's ok." She gently squeezed the little girl around the shoulders, waiting for her to calm down a little. "I'm not going to kill it, I just need to bring it outside so I can let him go." Tabitha looked up at her, snuffling back against another sob that threatened before wiping her nose on her arm. Kathryn didn't flinch when the girl grabbed her again; kids couldn't help it with things like that.

"Y-you're not g-going to," she stammered, "k-kill h-him?" Her voice hiccupped at the end. The skin around her green eyes was slightly puffy from crying and her nose was red after she'd wiped it with her arm. The professor came to stand next to them in a huff, clearly this wasn't something that he normally allowed to happen.

"Tabitha enough with your foolishness get back in there–"

"No, it's alright," Kathryn interrupted, not impressed with his tone of voice. She curled an arm protectively around the girl, the professor looking down at her. His teeth ground against one another, eyes flickering back and forth as if he was trying to think of a reason why it _wouldn't_ be ok. Why was he so desperate to have this little girl locked away in some room? Kathryn's eyes narrowed. He didn't look like the type who would beat a child, and Tabitha didn't have any marks or bruises on her. She looked like a perfectly healthy little eight year old. Accept for the fact she was bawling her eyes out over a little mouse with wings.

"Here, see?" Kathryn pulled her jacket forward, letting go of the little girl. She carefully opened the flap that held the little bat in hiding. Its tiny bead-shaped black eyes blinked and looked out at them. Its nose and ears twitching, little claws dug into her jean jacket. The poor little thing had made a mess and Kathryn would need to wash her jacket. Tabitha stopped sniffling, looking in at the little creature before reaching out to try and touch him.

"Don't touch him," said Kathryn, "he might just eat bugs, but he still has teeth and he's probably got lice. You don't want those on you." Tabitha looked up at her before she suddenly launched herself at Kathryn. Kathryn barely had time to pull her jacket back over the bat before Tabitha had her around the neck, squeezing her tight.

"Thank you, thank you, _thank you_," she just about screamed into Kathryn's ear. Kathryn wobbled and fell backwards, Tabitha landing in her lap, the bat safe under her arm. With a coughing gag Kathryn gently patted Tabitha on the back, feeling completely awkward. She wasn't much into taking care of little kids. She couldn't even keep baby Christian from having a fuss when she held him. Kathryn had no talent for handling children. Tabitha slowly loosened her grip on Kathryn's neck, pushing herself away so she was kneeling in front of her, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

"Can I watch you let him go?" she asked. Those big green eyes felt like they were pinning Kathryn on the spot, forcing the pit of her stomach down onto the floor. They still had tears in them and she suspected if she said no that Tabitha would start crying again. The professor, seeing an opportunity, came up behind Tabitha and scooped her up into his arms, the girl protesting and kicking her legs.

"I told you," he said, looking the little girl in the eyes, "that you had to stay in that room. You know what could happen if you didn't, this is a dangerous place." Tabitha's eyes filled with salty water again, the professor's own eyes softening. "Shh, it's alright. No harm done."

"B-but I want t-to make s-sure she lets him g-go…" Tabitha hiccupped while she spoke, pointing down at Kathryn. "I d-don't want someone to k-k-kill him." _Children,_ thought Kathryn_ could rule the world. It would only take them one hour with those big eyes of theirs filled with tears to get whatever they want._

The professor was giving in. Kathryn could see it in the relaxation of his shoulders, the way Tabitha gripped his polo in her little hands, and the fact that after only a few short seconds he'd put her down. Tabitha jumped up, pumping the air with her fist and ran back over to Kathryn, nearly knocking the older girl on her backside again. Little arms, again, latched themselves around her neck as Tabitha looked at her.

"It's ok for me to go out with you right? I can watch you let him go into one of the bat houses? You are going to let him go right?" Tabitha's questions came out like a rock slide. Kathryn opened and closed her mouth, looking up to the professor for some help, but all he did was shrug. Some help he was. Tabitha noticed her hesitation and again those maliciously innocent eyes filled with tears and she pouted, pushing her lip out before Kathryn stuttered a quick answer.

"I-I don't mind, you can come as long as it's ok with the professor," she said quickly turning the target of those large emerald eyes back to the professor who backed down faster then Kathryn had.

"Alright, I guess it will be ok," the professor gave under the pressure, "but when we're done you and Kathryn are going to come with me alright? I need to talk to Kathryn about something important, deal?" Before Kathryn could open her mouth to object to the deal, Tabitha screamed in jubilation.

"_Deal!_" she screamed, hopping up and down before pulling on Kathryn's arm. "Come on, come on Kathryn, and let's go let the bat go!" The smirk across the professor's face meant that he'd won this round, but when he asked her to come with him to talk Kathryn would tell him no and if he didn't take it as a no… well she'd figure out what to do afterward.

Tabitha pulled on her, almost dragging her out the door and to one of the bat houses. Kathryn carefully held the bat up and, smelling its own kind, it scuttled forward and climbed inside of the wooden house. Tabitha insisted that Kathryn pick her up so she could see inside of the bat house, but to her disappointment it was a little too dark out and they hadn't brought a flash light. The bats would be out soon, said the professor, and they could look at them through the window.

With Tabitha still holding onto her arm Kathryn was dragged back inside smiling at the little girl's exuberance at having a new friend, who liked bats and wasn't scared of them. She'd almost forgotten that she didn't want to go with Tabitha and the professor when Professor Ivan opened the second door Tabitha had come out of. Kathryn stopped cold in her tracks, Tabitha letting go of her arm while Professor Ivan stared the older girl down. Kathryn wrapped her arms around her chest, watching as the professor prompted Tabitha to go inside.

"Kathryn we had a deal," said the professor. Kathryn grit her teeth, her own nails biting into the skin of her arm.

"No," said Kathryn, "you and she had a deal. I wasn't given the chance to agree or not. I'm not interested in talking to you about anything. I hardly know you; I certainly am not going to go into some strange room with you just on your say-so."

"Kathryn," said the professor, his voice strained, "I don't have time to explain why you need to come with me, but it's dangerous for you and Tabitha to be out here at the same time. I need you to come with me to–"

"What a load of crock Doc," Kathryn said; using her mother's favorite phrases when she knew someone was spouting a load of bull. "Until today I've never met that little girl, and there's no way the two of us would be 'dangerous'," Kathryn's voice took on an air of sarcasm, bringing her hands up and using air quotes just to drill in her point, "about us being together. Unless you're one of those types that gets off on little girls," her voice grew cold, eyes narrowing, "and if that's the case I sure as hell am not going with you."

"You don't understand," the professor said, Tabitha standing by the open door, "if there are too many signals in one spot _they_ will know that–"

"Who the hell is 'they', what are you talking about?" Kathryn demanded. She was starting to shake, was this professor actually a nut case? Her hand reached reassuringly back against the taser she had clipped onto her belt loop, taking a step back. The professor followed her, reaching out his hand as if to grab her arm.

"Kathryn you don't understand, you're in dang–" his words were cut off as something slammed into the building. Kathryn had never experienced an earthquake before, but this had to be what it was like. Her legs wobbled like jello, her knees nearly giving out when she steadied herself by grabbing onto the wall. Tabitha fell down onto her front.

"No, they're here, Ironhide? Ironhide!" the little girl screamed, covering her head with her arms. Kathryn ducked down, leaning in and picking the little girl up into her arms, trying to hold onto her as the professor came up behind them.

"Professor Ivan Cross!" a voice said; the sound of screeching metal reaching their ears. "I know they are here Professor! Bring them out to me and I will let you live."


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Monsters

"Professor," the voice called. Kathryn pushed her back up against the wall, Tabitha trembling in her arms. "I am not known for my patience." There was a second rumble, screams of metal tearing metal. The professor shielded both Kathryn and Tabitha as the light above them shuddered, glass shattering from the strain on the ceiling. Tabitha was bawling, her body shaking in Kathryn's arms. The older girl could feel the wet streak of tears dripping over her neck when the younger child pressed her face against her skin. Shots rang out, an explosion echoed through the facility when Professor Ivan grabbed Kathryn's arm, pulling her back through the door she'd originally gone through into the factory.

"This way," he said, "there's an underground bunker that was designed to withstand a nuclear explosion," Kathryn's eyes widened, why would such a small facility plan for that kind of catastrophe? The professor pulled harder on her arm, dragging Kathryn, holding Tabitha still, behind him into the main section of the facility. The floor shook, pieces of the ceiling above dropped down, the walls and floors groaned dangerously. The professor slammed his hand into the emergency stop button on the wall; an alarm rang out shortly after followed by the confused shouts of the students. Everyone came walking out of the previous door where the metal was being melted down, the confused look on their faces only grew, a loud shriek of metal grinding against metal meeting their ears; a voice, the sound of crumbling brick accompanying it.

"Professor!" the voice roared, "you are trying my patience! Surrender them or we will destroy this antiquated facility and kill every living flesh-bag within its confines!" There was a pause, a low and slow chuckle creeping its way down through Kathryn's ear canal. It felt like the fine hairs within were tingling, a shiver running down her spine. Her lungs burned reminding her to breathe, dragging in a breath of air that felt hot against her tongue. "If you will not come out," the voice spoke again. The same horrifyingly amused tone licking at its center, "then we will simply come _in_."

The next thing Kathryn knew was she was lying on her side, her body covering Tabitha's as brick and mortar fell down on top of them. The professor was a little ways further off. Kathryn looked down at Tabitha and realized the girl's mouth was moving, but Kathryn couldn't hear a word the girl was saying. Kathryn looked down at her confused until the girl waved wildly, pointing at Kathryn's back. Kathryn thought she was asking about the explosion, she shook her head and felt her ears pop. It sounded like air was rushing into them and she could finally hear the girl screaming. She was just screaming, not saying anything, but Tabitha continued to point and wave wildly at something at Kathryn's back. That was when she realized she heard more then just Tabitha's screaming… others were screaming as well. She could hear the _rat-a-tat-tat_ of bullets being fired at an extreme velocity; the bullets were bouncing off the metal in the building, denting the tables and turning the walls into shreds. The muffled sound of bullets entering flesh hit her ears, a sickening wet thud. Kathryn turned her head, pulling Tabitha's face against her neck, keeping the girl from seeing what was happening.

"Don't look, don't look, don't look," Kathryn whispered into Tabitha's hair. A blast rang out behind her and Kathryn felt something splatter across her neck. She flinched, closing her eyes tight before opening them again. Sweat beaded on her brow, trickling down in between her breasts, her breath came in faint puffs of air. Her legs shook, but the sobbing girl in her arms forced her to move, pushing herself up and pulling Tabitha up into her arms again. "Don't look," she whispered, "don't look. Whatever you do don't look." Kathryn pressed a hand against Tabitha's hair, holding her face against her neck. The little girl's arms were wrapped tight around her ribs, holding on with as much pressure as the eight year old could manage.

The thundering movement of the ground made it difficult for Kathryn to stand. The bile rose in her throat looking at the body of a student that was now lying just behind her, eyes open and ghosted already in death. His mouth was a gape, his previous blond hair was now a pasty looking red. Hands fell down onto her shoulders startling a scream out of Kathryn's lips, turning to look up at the professor. Without a word he shoved her, pushing her down and placing a hand against her collar bone. Kathryn hardly got a single word out before she was forced under one of the machines, her head smashing into the metal under workings. His hand came up, his finger pressing to his lip shushing her to silence before returning the metal covering to its place. He leaned in, whispering through the grate.

"It will not hide you for long," his voice was hoarse; blood was dribbling from the side of his mouth, a gash running across his brow. "But I need you to hide here, keep Tabitha safe. There will be someone outside waiting for you both. Go with him. Tell him I'm sorry I put her at risk." Kathryn opened her mouth to reply, but there was a resounding _snap_, metal warping, a cry of pain before something fell just to their side. "Wheeljack!" The professor called out, jumping to the side as something massive crash landed in front of them.

Kathryn's breath caught in her chest when the professor approached a moving mass of metal. Crystal blue orbs looked up at the professor as he approached; glancing to the machine the man had hidden the girls in before returning his gaze to the man in front of him. Parts of his body looked like the Porsche she'd seen earlier. Something moved in the giant's metallic hands, one of the workers, an old man, was laying there, his head rolling to one side when the metallic monster put him down. The man was badly hurt, but the gentle motions of the monster seemed genuine. A small hand clasping her neck forced Kathryn to intake air into her lungs, turning her eyes down to Tabitha. The girl was shaking, her eyes were wide, pupils dilated in fear and Kathryn realized with an absence of disgust that the child had wet herself. At the back of her mind Kathryn was glad she had been holding the girl around the waist rather then by her bottom, but she kept her hold on Tabitha, not allowing the child to see out through the grate as something else came up from behind them.

"I requested you surrender them to me, Professor Ivan Cross," the same voice said. Kathryn felt Tabitha shivering against her, pulling her closer and whispering into her ear. The girl choked back a sob, trying to keep quiet. "But you chose instead to ignore my offer, and now the deaths of these others of your species are on your head." A foot came down in front of Kathryn's view as another metal monster approached the one called Wheeljack and the professor. Her eyes moved up from the machine's foot, but her eyes could only travel to where the thigh would be on a human. The grate forced her to keep her neck bent.

A body dropped from above, landing on the floor in front of the second metal monster's foot; a wet splatter following the impact of ruptured meat. Kathryn's eyes widened, recognizing one of the football guys. His arm reached out, the other behind his back the bone protruding, sticking out of his flesh like some ivory spear. His hand reached up, reaching _out _to the professor. Kathryn couldn't see his face, but she could almost _sense_ his lips moving in a silent plea for help. His body was a mangled mess, blood dripped down from overhead where the second monster's hand would have been positioned. It stepped forward, its foot bumping against the teen's side. The one called Wheeljack remained where he was standing; the professor's face pasty white.

"You really are quite… delicate creatures aren't you, professor?" questioned the monster. "So similar to the _insects_ and _vermin_ on this planet," Kathryn's stomach twisted on itself, knotting; feeling her own bladder about ready to give. Her eyes were fastened on the sight when the monster's foot snapped down on top of the teen, giving him no time to scream as he crushed him. A sickening lurch hit Kathryn's stomach, sweat dripped off her nose as the crunch of bones reached her ears. The monster twisted its foot, crushing the remains further as a human would crush a beetle. Bile rose in Kathryn's mouth, her tongue thick and choking. The professor's skin was tainted green by the sight, his knees buckling and falling forward similar to the position the first monster, Wheeljack, was in.

"But like them," the monster said, not removing his foot from the gory mess, "you will be _crushed_." Faint clicking, metal glancing off metal, the creature closed its hand. "Now, Professor Cross, _where are they_?" It stepped forward towards the professor, the metal groaning as it moved, making strange noises as gears and wires shifted position. Kathryn's eyes were still focused on what was in front of her, her gore rose, she was ready to vomit.

"_Ironhide_," the tiny voice spoke in her ear, "_Ironhide, Ironhide,_" Tabitha was shaking, ignoring as the sweat dropped off of Kathryn's nose onto her hair. Her brown eyes looked down at the terrified child, shushing her, bringing a hand up over her head and keeping her face pressed to her neck. The girl was becoming more upset, her sobs becoming harder for the eight year old to control. Kathryn just hoped the child didn't know what those sounds were, they could be mistaken for something else later on, but the voices, the words could not be. Kathryn held onto the sobbing girl, but even the child couldn't hold back the hiccup that escaped from her chest. The noise from her heart felt like it tripled when the girl couldn't stop hiccupping, the sound escaping her mouth. The pounding beat against her rib cage, feeling like it was bruising the bones with its pulsation.

"Don't!" the professor cried out. Metallic feet ground against the floor until it clattered, a raucous noise when the one called Wheeljack was attacked from both sides, his arms being pulled, forced, behind his back by two other monsters. Blood was spattered against their weapons from firing at close range, their eyes a bloodied red compared to the crystal blue of Wheeljack's. Another monster's hand came down, latching tight around the professor's waist, the older man kicking and struggling against the grip, being ripped from the ground when Kathryn looked back out of the grate.

"Starscream," said another voice. This one sounded reasonable in comparison to the others. Kathryn swallowed against the urge to vomit, her skin feeling clammy inside of the machine. It was getting too warm, too stuffy. Tabitha coughed slightly, pulling her head up and trying to breath in the fresh air. "Why are you wasting your time with the human?" Something crashed down on top of the machine she and Tabitha were hiding inside of. The grate crashed down onto the floor, the scream that erupted from Tabitha's lips echoing out. Kathryn clamped her hand down over Tabitha's mouth, but it was too late.

Screeching steel assaulted Kathryn's ears when sharp digits cut into the metal, ripping away at the layers of metal that had previously protected herself and Tabitha from notice by the metal monsters. She felt the metal cut at her back, a shallow cut running up her spine. Kathryn tucked herself over Tabitha, holding the girl close as the steel was ripped away, a bright light shining down on them in the darkness.

The roof was gone. The entire building had been ripped apart, walls crumbled, blasted to bits. Kathryn's eyes blinked, adjusting to the brightness of the light shining down on them. Her breath stuck to her lungs like a hot rag. There was blood everywhere, the entire staff and the visiting students were on the ground. Some of them were still alive, other metallic monsters watching over their movements while they struggled to just breathe. Her hands tightened over Tabitha, practically suffocating the girl, but she refused to allow her to see what was going on.

Kathryn's eyes finally traveled upward to the creature standing over her, its knee bending and coming closer to look at them. Its single purple eye boring down on them tingeing her face and skin. Kathryn's entire body began to shake, pushing herself back against the inner workings of the mechanisms inside of the machine she and Tabitha had been hidden in, pulling the smaller girl closer into her lap. The one machine's arm was a massive gun of some kind. Kathryn cowered under its gaze, closing her eyes and yelling as its hand slammed down next to her where the grate had fallen. Tabitha clung to her, arms wrapped around her chest, crying and sobbing the same name over and over again. The clawed hand moved up off the floor, fingers spreading out and coming close, brushing against Kathryn's side, her own arms tightening over Tabitha. Her skin shivered feeling the cold metal tip of a claw touching her arm, laying his finger tip there while a strange light moved over hers and the child's body. It tingled like a charge had moved over the hair on her arms and legs across the back of her neck and into her scalp. A burning sensation traveled down the arm the monstrous robot was touching.

"Shockwave," the one called Starscream spoke in grudging acknowledgement. Kathryn didn't dare to open her eyes. It was like she could feel the heat of those eyes boring into her body, over every inch, but she still tried to protect Tabitha from their sights, her knees curling up, arms wrapped over the girl. Her own shirt was soaked from the child's tears. Her own sweat dripped down her neck as the hand moved, a digit pushing behind her shoulders and forcing her forward.

"I believe," said the reasoned voice that was identified as Shockwave, "we have found what we have been looking for." Kathryn couldn't move. She felt like someone had paralyzed her spine. Her eyes tightened, her arms covering Tabitha moved, almost crushing the girl against her breasts. Shockwave's fingers pushed behind her back, prompting her to a standing position with Tabitha dangling in her arms. Kathryn bent low, pulling Tabitha's legs up and holding her close, keeping the girl's eyes pressed to her neck. If she could shield her… what could she do? These… these _things_ they were massive. One snap of their fingers and both she _and_ Tabitha would be dead. The only thing Kathryn was doing was trying to give the girl as much comfort as she could while waiting to die.

A cold clutch of metal, a vice grip wrapping around her body. Tabitha screamed, her small fingernails clawing at Tabitha's neck leaving bloody furrows; trying to pull away from the freezing metal embrace. Kathryn's bile rose, she could smell the death around her, wondered if she would feel any pain when that moment came.

"Don't touch them!" Wheeljack yelled. For a moment the clamp of metal stopped, Shockwave looking up to the Autobot, his voice monotone.

"I shall do as I wish, Autobot," the vice clamped down, his hand wrapped around both Kathryn's and Tabitha's body. The two girls pressed together, Kathryn's feet being pulled off the ground, legs dangling outside of the monster's grip. A pathetic sound reached its way out of her lungs; a cross between a whimper and a grunt a panic attack slowly setting in. Kathryn's eyes cracked open, watching the ground move away. The creature, the… the robot stood up to its full height. Her heart beat increased, she began to hyper ventilate, her lungs burning as she tried to drag in air. Tabitha felt the change in rhythm and looked up at her, green eyes met brown and Kathryn felt herself trying to force her lungs to calm. Her brain felt sluggish, like every thought cost her, but she knew, she _knew_ that if she passed out now no one would be here for this girl. If she were on her own, if it was just _her_ she would pass out. She'd go unconscious so she wouldn't have to feel the pain, but she _had to hold on_. No matter how much the contact, the enclosed space, the tightening grip…

Her vision split, blacking out as she succumbed to a minor panic attack. Her body shaking as she held tight to Tabitha. She couldn't let her see how scared she was! Her hearing went in and out, a ringing in her ears while her heart rate tripled. She'd gone this far before, it was too close. She could pass out at any second. Damn it she could _not_ pass out, she had to stay awake she had to–

Air rushed into her lungs, the sudden space of air catching her off guard. Kathryn opened her eyes, noticing Tabitha's hair moving _up_ while they were moving _down_. A roar entered the room that was both primal and carried a similar reverberation to a stereo system. Kathryn landed hard on her back, Tabitha landing on top of her where Shockwave dropped them, turning to face the oncoming threat. Another set of massive metal robots came pouring in from around the roof of the ceiling, agile, being careful not to step on the injured, the dying, and the dead. One, a four-story tall black beast with twin cannons on his arms came forward and smashed both fists into Shockwave's 'face'. The roar had come from him. Blue and orange light spewed out of the cannons, attempting to blast the larger robot at point blank range. Kathryn rolled herself over, noticing several other robots in similar fights. The one called Wheeljack was attempting to free the professor from the grip of the robot who'd picked him up, twisting the arm this way and that.

"Take the professor and leave!" called the one named Starscream. "We still have need of his information. Decepticons attack and destroy all Autobots! Soundwave activate your _minicons_," he slurred the word, making it an insult. Kathryn pushed herself up, dodging between a set of legs. There was one thing and one thing alone that she could do in this situation and that was to _run_.

Her feet slipped on the bloody surface of the floor, racing through the first door and shoving her way outside. Her eyes widened, looking around at the fire that had caught the trees. She coughed, sputtering as a blast erupted behind them. The fire outside was bad, she hadn't noticed the smoke. Kathryn adjusted Tabitha into one arm, grabbing at her own shirt and ripping half of it off, tearing it away from her body before pressing it up against Tabitha's mouth.

"Breathe into this," she said. "Don't open your eyes," her voice hitched, she coughed. Kathryn inhaled ash and debris from the air tasting the wood and smoke while Tabitha buried her face into the piece of shirt Kathryn gave her. "We have to get to the road," she coughed, ducking down and trying to run under the smoke. A majority of the forest around them had been set on fire. A tree branch had fallen, landing on top of the van they had used to get to the building. It had caught on fire and when Kathryn attempted to pass it the gas tank exploded. The blast hit Kathryn on the left hand side slightly in the back sending two girls were flying, twisting through the air again, Kathryn landing on her back to protect Tabitha, the gravel digging into her skin and ripping her shirt open further. She could feel it gouging deep into her and knew it would have to be picked out later. Her hands clasped tight on the girl, pushing herself up and gagging on the fumes from the fire.

Her eyes burned, watering from the smoke. Everything was a blurry midnight-blue and red haze. Orange flecks danced in front of her eyes while she stumbled forward towards the road, aware only of the presence of something following her. Kathryn looked over her shoulder, her stomach flipping at the pair of red eyes staring out from a darkened shadow the fire light hadn't touched. A great black and silver metallic cat stalked out of the brush. Its body was easily the size of a tiger. The tail whipped back and forth, lashing out and smashing into a tree. The resulting forced caused the already crippled tree to crash down to Kathryn's right, the fire biting at her skin, turning away from it when Tabitha screamed.

Without another thought Kathryn turned and ran. Her legs pounding into the gravel not daring to look back; she could hear the metallic thunder that followed behind her. Four paws smashing down into the gravel at a speed greater then hers. If Kathryn could just get Tabitha somewhere safe, the cat would be unable to get at her and Kathryn could lead it away.

Salvation presented its form in the guise of an emergency vehicle. Some kind of hummer, she wasn't sure what model was sitting outside of the fight. Kathryn stumbled, tripping and nearly falling down face first. Tabitha raised her eyes, looking up and taking note of the vehicle before pushing at Kathryn's arms to let her down. Her arms wobbled like jelly, releasing the girl who ran screaming for the truck, calling out something that Kathryn couldn't hear, but the roar behind her reached her ears just fine.

The wind was knocked out of her ribs, pushed out as the large metallic cat landed on top of her, its claws digging into her shoulders. It watched as the younger girl ran for the emergency vehicle. Kathryn could feel the twitch of its tail, its body positioning to chase after and pounce on the child she'd been trying so hard to protect. The cat walked forward in front of her, lowering itself into the pouncing position. Kathryn reached up, her hands wrapping tight around its tail, pulling with all her might when the cat leapt. She grunted, struggling with it, feeling her ribs being knocked against the hard ground again. She could feel the pain racing up her side, but it was obliterated by the adrenaline in her system. She pulled on the sharp edges of the cat's tail, struggling to keep it from moving towards the vehicle.

"Kathryn release him and get in!" a voice spoke out, coming from the vehicle. The medical personal must have seen her before, or maybe the professor had spoken to them. She shook her head, struggling with the cat as Tabitha finally got to the vehicle. The door popped open, the little girl climbing inside.

"Get her out of here!" Kathryn screamed out, struggling to her feet, feeling her heels digging into the gravel. One foot was completely bare, her shoe being lost somewhere before. A crimson banner slid across her vision, the cat turning back on her. One long claw slicing into the muscle of her right leg; Kathryn crying out feeling the wet splatter of her own blood painting the ground. The jagged rupture ran from the top of her hip down to her ankle, the muscle and other tissues ripped away, the bone showing through in some spots. "Go damn it I can't hold him!" She screamed. "Get her out of here or I'll kill you myself!" The medical personal seemed to finally listen to her. The door shut after Tabitha climbed in, the sirens flicking on and a low wail entering the night. Kathryn gave one sigh of relief as she watched the vehicle leave before she felt the tail of the large cat being ripped from her hands.

She screamed, her hands being cut open from the barbed ribs of the feline's tail, her body stumbling back and dropping on her rear. Her eyes looked up, watching the cat chase after the vehicle, knowing that Tabitha would be safe. There was no way a vehicle could be outrun by a cat, no matter how large or how strange.

Kathryn pushed herself up, moving and looking down at the wound in her leg. She was bleeding profusely. If she didn't find a way to staunch the bleeding she would be dead within minutes. Through her blurred vision she saw the blue strip of her shirt she'd given to Tabitha to cover her mouth with. Kathryn picked it up, turning and ripping away what was left of her jean of her right leg, tying off the strip of cloth above as much of the wound as she could. Her breath caught, darts of pain danced up her skin, she screamed in pain as she tied it off as tight as she could manage. The throb of blood slowed, weeping rather then pouring. She could feel the circulation being cut off, limping away from the area she'd fought the cat. It wouldn't be enough; there had been too much blood flow already. She had to do more.

The idea came to her when she found a bar of metal lying on the ground, the one end of it was already cherry. Using what she'd ripped off from her jeans Kathryn picked up the bar of heated steel…

The battle was still raging when she woke up. Her head throbbing, pain lancing across her eyes, her lungs felt caked with ash. She choked, gagging, coughing and vomiting up what she'd been so desperately holding back. Strings of black bile dripped from her lips when she vomited a second time, dragging herself away and towards the edge of the forest using a boulder on the side of the road to push herself up, staggering into the now burnt line of trees. She had to get away; she had to get to another part of the road, away from the facility.

Kathryn stumbled for minutes, pushing herself as far as she could. She could still hear the sounds of the missile fire, the machine guns the monsters were using. She could still feel the cold grip wrapping around her body, the burn of the fire. Her head felt like it was floating, moving around on its own, vision blurry, her mouth hanging open, fighting to breathe.

She staggered through the forest for a half hour, making no progress, no head way away from the facility, away from the carnage. Her breathing came in labored gasps, the pain of her leg reaching up. How many times had she fallen now? Too many to count, she was sinking farther and farther into shock, her stomach rolling remembering what had happened.

Kathryn fell face-forward into a patch of fern bushes. Her head striking a near-by tree as she fell. Her vision split again, went red, and then black. Vomit pooled out of her mouth, coughing and spitting up the blackened paste that caked her lungs; her voice a raspy whisper.

"Someone, someone help."


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Battle

As soon as Shockwave faltered four drones came at Ironhide at all angles, their feet pounding into the ground, cracking the floor and nearly crushing the remaining living humans. Ironhide forced air from his vents, creating a sinister puff of air when the first drone made it to him. His fist crashed forward, crumpling and folding the metal of the Decepticon's chest, his fist spearing up and under the 'cons armor. Ironhide pulled the drone close, its sharp fingers digging into his forearm armor before he fired a shot off directly into the 'cons spark chamber, ripping his fist out from the husk of his enemy and throwing the now lifeless chunk of metal towards a second drone. His cannons steamed, smoke rippling up from the heated barrels as the third and forth drone stood just outside his reach. Ironhide allowed a morbid smile to cross his features and brought his cannons up.

"Punk ass Decepticons," he muttered at their stupidity. Twin blasts fired off followed by the rattle of a machine gun as he ripped into their frames with heavy fire. Under normal circumstances he may have held himself back, but this time… this time he allowed himself the pleasure of ripping each Decepticon that crossed his path apart. The second 'con drone had snuck up behind his back, but the old weapon's master was hardly at a disadvantage as the machine gun stationed on his shoulder rotated around, blasting into the face plate of the unlucky 'con.

Its body dropped, thundering to the ground, Ironhide turned to face Starscream. Several more Autobots were entangled in similar battles with others of the 'cons. Shockwave was under heavy fire now from the twins, cursing at them in their own cybertroninan language when the two Autobots continually moved around his body, refusing to stay still. The weapon's master stepped on top of the drone he'd just extinguished, walking towards Starscream and the Decepticon who was holding the Professor. Wheeljack still wrestling with a second con who'd come up behind him.

"Starscream," groused Ironhide, his voice grinding, "you're gonna pay fer frightenin' th'girl," he spun the barrels of his canons, bringing his hands up and 'popping' his knuckles. The sound of metal grinding on metal as he slammed his foot down on top of the drone under his foot, crushing its already destroyed head. "An' then I'm gonna extinguish yer spark fer good measure." Ironhide rolled his shoulder allowing the machine gun to sink back into his body.

A deep rolling chuckle escaped from the Seeker, stepping forward to meet Ironhide's pace. Both of them began to circle the other, Decepticons and Autobots a like giving the two titans room for the forthcoming battle. Starscream was a cunning bastard, but Ironhide was as tough as they came. All together the two were an even match.

"_Ironhide_," Starscream sneered, "if I didn't know better I'd say you were in _love_ with that pathetic pile of flesh you call a sparkling," the puff that escaped Ironhide's vents filtered out much of his rage at Starscream. The Seeker was attempting to goad him into a blind rage in order to gain the upper hand. Ironhide's cannons heated, spinning in place, spreading out the fingers on his hand ready to grasp the Decepticon second in command by the throat. Starscream smirked, the glow of his eyes simmering below his optical ridges. "It was rather amusing that the child lost control over her own bodily functions," the Seeker continued, the sneer on his face growing in amusement. He laughed again, his fingers spreading out the metal clicking and slicing together.

"Hmph," grunted the weapon's master, his fingers clenching back together, turning his body as the two continued to circle the other. He stepped on the drone again, crushing what remained of its head. "I will enjoy picking you apart, servo motor by servo motor when this is finished." Starscream's sneer lessened slightly, he was not getting the reaction from the foul tempered Autobot that he intended. If he could not get the Autobot to go into a blind rage there was little doubt in Starscream's internal processor that he would come out of this battle sorely wounded.

"I wonder how long she will last when when Ravage returns with her," said Starscream. "Our science expert is not known for his gentle touch Ironhide. Do you think the child will scream? Or will she merely go into stasis, too afraid to face the reality?" At the last of his words Starscream launched himself at the Autobot, bringing his clawed hand down and across the Autobot's shoulder. He had intended to strike Ironhide across the face, but the crafty old warrior had seen the attack coming. Ironhide's own hand snapped out, grabbing the Seeker by his upper arm. His servos contracted, the scream of metal being crushed beneath his fingers caused a savage joy to well within his spark. Starscream snarled, grabbing onto Ironhide with both his arms, bringing his feet up and smashing them into the old 'bots chest. His burners fired at his back, forcing the Autobot to release his hold on the Seeker.

Ironhide grunted, the blow barely making his most sensitive servo motors groan. His fist came out, smashing into the 'cons back as he tried to turn. Hand reaching out, grabbing onto Starscream's leg and pulling him back. His own joints squealed with the force, bringing the 'con down onto the ground, smashing his thrusters with a burst of sparks and flames onto one of the machines. The resulting mess of oil and volatile fluids caused an explosion to erupt around the Seeker.

"Decepticon scrap," Ironhide said watching Starscream stand from the flames, the glow from his optics brighter then the fire around him. Starscream walked out of the fire, patting at his sides to snuff out the flames that had managed to catch on the oil that had spilt on his armor. The sneer the Seeker had placed upon his lip components remained turning to face Ironhide once more. The Autobot had deep cuts across his shoulder armor, the Seeker had a few burns, but otherwise both were unharmed after their first clash. Ironhide's dental plates rubbed together, brushing away some of the plaster that had fallen from the ceiling, rolling his shoulder and turning to his left, pacing along with Starscream as they walked parallel to the other. The sneer on Starscream's face was replaced with a smirk.

"Do tell me, Iron_hide_," Starscream said, "I have heard that _interfacing_ with humans is a difficult process," his smirk turned into a smug grin when Ironhide stopped moving all together. He laughed, a cold chuckle rumbling as if from his turbines when Ironhide's frame began to shake, "is it as _disgusting_ as I would think? I could not imagine inserting such a delicate piece of equpi–" This time Starscream's jab was rewarded by the animal-like bellow of Ironhide. The stockier bot raced towards him like a bi-pedal tank. His black chassis knocking aside anything that dare get in his way; Starscream had found the trigger he needed, but he had underestimated the Autobot's anger.

Ironhide barreled into Starscream, a fist with his fully charged cannon smashing down on top of the Seeker's shoulder joint, firing his cannon into the joint before his other hand crashed into Starscream's side. The Decepticon second in command was completely caught off guard at Ironhide's sudden strength. He brought the 'con up into the air before smashing him down, pinning him down with one foot before he began to pummel the 'con into the ground. His fists smashing into the chest plate of the Seeker. Starscream desperately attempted to ward off the heavier 'bots attacks, his own clawed hands catching only half of the blows that were landing on his chassis.

The weapon's master's hand came down, clutching Starscream's throat, pulling the Decepticon up so their faces were only inches apart. Starscream's eyes barely twitched, letting the Autobot pull him closer, waiting…

"You will _never_ lay a single servo on that child," Ironhide said, his vocoder producing a rattling growl, but Starscream's smile had Ironhide faltering, his grip tightened around the Seeker's neck, but Starscream could only laugh.

"I wonder," choked out the 'con. "Who is caring for Dr. Laski's daughter?" Ironhide froze, his grip loosening just slightly. "Or didn't you realize who it was that was caring for your charge while you were off _buffing_ yourself? Ravage has informed me that she is badly injured," Ironhide's eyes narrowed, he brought his cannon close to Starscream's face. "I suppose," continued Starscream, unfazed, "it would get rather lonely without the sparkling around to aid in the _process_; I suppose we can overlook your oversight this time."

Ironhide's entire body shook the metal creaking. He ignored every other sound of the battle around them, slamming his hand down into the ground next to the Seeker's shoulder, his opposite fist coming near with the cannon glowing cherry red.

"That's it," he growled, his vocoder trembling with restraint. "You die." The barrel of his gun started to spin, the round he had charged ready to fire.

"I think… not," said Starscream, grinning up at him before he brought his clawed hand up, slicing into the delicate circuitry at Ironhide's waist. The Autobot growled in pain, but didn't move the weapon away from Starscream, but the second time the Decepticon slashed at him he also engaged his turbines on his back.

Starscream sent himself flying out from under Ironhide's grip, the cannon blast bursting into the floor, causing the tile to shatter. Ironhide grunted when the Seeker kicked him in the chest, sharp metal screeching when Starscream transformed into his jet form, launching himself into the air.

"They _will_ be mine, _Autobot_ and you will _never see your sparkling again,_" Starscream yelled down to the Autobot below. Ironhide brought both cannons to bear and shot at the F-22 Decepticon. Firing off several shots before Starscream was out of range.

"_Starscream you cowardly bastard come back an' fight me!_" Ironhide roared into the sky, his eyes turning to Wheeljack and the professor, firing off shots at the 'cons that were attempting to kidnap the human. If he could not kill Starscream, he would make do with these.

A blast seared into Ratchet's side as Ravage continued to sprint behind him. The large felinoid had been given express orders to capture the smallest human and to leave the elder one to the larger 'cons, but he had not expected the larger human to try and sacrifice herself for the child. Many Decepticons saw the humans as primitive and self-serving. Aspects they often used at their own discretion to great benefits. It was annoying to find a human more concerned about another then themselves. Ravage preferred it when they were greedy.

The H2 Hummer pulled to one side of the road and then the other, attempting vainly to avoid the blasts that were riding up his aft. With Tabitha clinging to the interior of his terrestrial form, nails digging into the upholstery from sheer terror, Ratchet found his normally patient processor grinding down to his last inch. His scans revealed that there was nothing wrong with the child, other then the fear that was draining away any form of self-control the eight year old had learned to possess. The only thing that managed to leak its way through his otherwise preoccupied processor was a simple thought: _May Primus have mercy on the spark that frightened this girl, because Ironhide certainly won't._

Ravage wasn't falling behind him as quickly as Ratchet thought he might. The large feline-bodied Decepticon did not give up very easily. Once the order had been given by Soundwave Ravage wouldn't stop chasing after him until he had the child. Ratchet knew the only way to rid himself of the pest would be to transform and blast the cat until it stopped coming for him. Ravage might be a powerful tool of the Decepticons, but he wasn't indestructible. Ratchet might be a healer, but he would stand his ground as a warrior when the time came.

"Tabitha?" he questioned the occupant of his cab, "child I need to transform." Tabitha looked up at the dash of the Hummer, nodding her head slightly and rubbing her eyes, trying to get rid of the tears and the snot that ran down her face. Now that she was with Ratchet she'd started to calm down. She'd seen the Autobots teaching others what to do when they were riding with them and they were forced to change, but Tabitha had never been though such a thing. Her little body was shaking, her hands clutched at the arm rest.

"There is no need to be afraid," Ratchet said soothingly. Human children _were_ more accepting of them, but because of a human's slow development children were more easily frightened then their adult counterparts. "You will not leave me, I will not risk Ravage attacking you," Ratchet had never attempted transforming while keeping a small human inside of his body, but it was not impossible. Many of the military personal that they had carried with them often were forced to leave their equipment with the Autobots and there were several small compartment areas the Autobots were able to store such things. As long as she remained still she would be alright and he would remain aware of her position so if he found it necessary to alter his form he could.

"Tabitha," he continued, grunting as another shot from Ravage landed on his bumper, "please remain still child. Nothing will happen." Tabitha nodded her head, curling herself up as tight as she could. Ironhide had done this with her once or twice, but it was still a frightening experience.

With the sound of warping metal, Ratchet's form erupted off of the road, flipping up and around. Tabitha whimpered faintly, tucking her head in against her chest as she felt the movement of the mechanisms around her. They brushed against her body, wires moving to different places, the seat folding backwards until it was in a more compact position. When she next opened her eyes she found herself tucked into a corner, her body still shaking, but the warmth from Ratchet's nearby spark helped to calm her fears. With the seatbelt still firmly in place she wasn't tossed from side to side when Ratchet maneuvered himself to face the oncoming 'con.

"Ravage," said Ratchet, standing to his full height, his hand altering itself into a three barreled gun, "do not try my patience. The child is remaining with me."

With a snarl Ravage came to a stop a few feet short of Ratchet. His tail whipping from side to side, two red orbs watching the larger mech. A rippling growl escaped from his vocal processor; attempting to calculate his odds of winning. There were no other Decepticons in the immediate vicinity, and while he could battle on even terms against some of the smaller Autobots, Ratchet was more metal then he could handle. Still, Ravage's orders had been clear. He was to bring the child back to Soundwave, Shockwave, and Starscream. The cat crouched, his shoulders shifting positions, his hind quarters twitching with the apprehension of sinking his jaws into Ratchet's metallic flesh.

"Ravage…" warned Ratchet, bringing his gun to bear on the feline. With a snarl the four legged 'con left the ground, his claws leaving deep gouges. Ratchet was too slow with his weapon, the feline snarling and snapping into his chest armor, ripping into it with his claws and teeth. With a grunt of pain Ratchet wrapped his hand around Ravage's waist, ripping the creature away from him. Pieces of his chassis went with him, scattering across the ground before he tossed Ravage aside, taking a step back and aiming his triple barreled cannon at him.

The shots rang out, peppering the dirt road he'd been traveling on for the last five miles. Some of the shots gave off a fierce ringing sound as they pelted Ravage's armor. The 'con snarled and jumped to the side, racing around the large Autobot in an attempt to avoid the shots. Ratchet turned himself, following Ravage as he moved around, but when the cat managed to make it to his feet Ratchet was forced to step back, moving closer to the trees where he'd be less maneuverable. Ravage snarled, growling and spitting. Claws bit into Ratchet's legs as the cat traversed up his thigh like a cat scaling a tree. The Medic swiped his hand at the cat, trying to dislodge him, but to no avail. Ravage growled crawling up and against Ratchet's back, claws sinking deep into his armor plating, cutting at the circuitry where it was exposed.

"You slagging feline," growled the Medic, his patience waning. He reached back with both of his hands now, trying to dislodge the cat from his back, struggling and attempting to reach an area his shoulder armor would not allow him to touch. He could feel Tabitha moving inside of his chest armor, scrambling, frightened at the sound of Ravage's claws screeching against her protector. His spark throbbed, his hands brushing against Ravage's sides. His fingers strained to grab at the armor of the 'con, but then with the sound of grating metal the feline was removed from his back.

Ratchet turned himself to find Ironhide standing behind him, his hand clamped tight on the 'con. A twisted smile spreading across his features as the feline struggled. His hand tightened, servo motors screaming at the pressure. Ravage yowled, clawing at Ironhide's hand and struggling to remove himself from Ironhide's grip. With a twist of his spine the feline pulled himself out of Ironhide's hand, growling and spitting before racing off into the forest. One Autobot was difficult enough, but two were two too many.

"Ironhide," Ratchet sighed in relief, "what about the others?" Ironhide passed air through his vents, imitating a snort.

"The Decepticons took the Professor," said Ironhide, heat washing out of his vents. Ratchet could tell that Ironhide had not gotten the payment he'd expected from the 'cons. "That flying bastard Starscream came in last moment. One of his drones threw the Professor into the air and the slagging 'con caught him." Another passage of heated air through his vents and Ironhide's shoulders slacked, his eyes changing from total animosity to concern. "What about Tabs?" Ratchet nodded his head, standing at full height and shifting some of the armor around in his chest and placing a hand under a piece of it. Tabitha crawled out onto Ratchet's hand, her eyes bloodshot, her nose red, and her frame shaking.

It was like a complete change came over Ironhide when he saw his small charge safe and sound in Ratchet's possession. He offered his hand out and Tabitha immediately crawled over onto it, the large Autobot scanning over her body. He was unconcerned with how she'd soiled herself, that there was still residue coming from her nose and tears from her eyes. All he could see was the frightened child safe. Terrified, but safe; Tabitha wrapped her arms around his thumb and began to sob. The weapon's master curled his servos around her protectively, bringing her close to his chest and spark.

"What about Kathryn? Have ya seen 'er?" Ironhide asked, the drawl returning to his voice now that he had discovered Tabitha safe.

"No, I haven't. She was carrying Tabitha out of the building when Ravage attacked them. She held Ravage back while Tabitha climbed into my cab, but she insisted I leave. Ravage was detained long enough for me to get a head start on him. That was the last I saw of her," the Medic's voice was remorseful. Regretting his decision to leave the Doctor's offspring behind; had there been another choice…

"She's every bit as stubborn as 'er father was," said Ironhide reassuringly. "If ya had remained she would 'ave run into th'woods. So you would 'ave to take Tabs and get 'er to safety." Ratchet sighed, looking back down the road.

"We best return then. From what little I saw there were a lot of human casualties. How many survived?" Ratchet transformed himself into his terrestrial mode, engine rumbling. Ironhide similarly transformed himself, gently depositing a now unconscious Tabitha onto his seat, settling the buckle over her petite form.

"Th' only one to survive was Dr. Keswick," said Ironhide, the two of them returning to the facility. "Th' rest're gone, the Decepticons were hoping t' make a show of it all."

"A show, but for who?" questioned Ratchet. Ironhide's rumbling engine was the only response he was given for some time before they pulled up to the facility. More vehicles were parked there now, human military helping in the clean up effort. Dr. Keswick was situated on a stretcher, a bandage across her brow along with a neck brace. She wasn't as badly injured as first thought, the Decepticons may have known about her alloy specialties, or they may have been careless. The doctor was lucky to be alive at any rate. A human medical official walked up to Ironhide and Ratchet, saluting them both before reporting.

"I'm afraid no one else was found living in the facility. We counted possibly seven students of the eight that were reported to be here, and several dozen faculty members," The medic looked slightly green, but he was maintaining his composure. Ratchet mentally filed away the information before commending the soldier for his quick work.

"That means Ms. Laski is still missing," said Ratchet, transforming himself back into his bipedal form. His eyes roaved the now extinguished fire, noting a metal pipe lying off to one side, something strange patterning the metal. He walked towards it, kneeling down as Ironhide handed off Tabitha to the human officials. There were pleanty of Autobots here now to protect the child and without Optimus or Jazz here, he and Ratchet shared the burden of command.

"'ave you set up a perimeter around the facility," questioned Ironhide to another military official. He was answered with a quick affirmative, followed by the simplistic human schematics for how they had arranged the perimeter. Several of the Autobot team that had responded to the Decepticon signals had volunteered to help keep the perimeter.

"Ironhide," said Ratchet, turning the metal bar over in his fingers, his other hand looking at something on the ground. His headlights were on showing old blood spattered across the gravel, slightly stirred up by humans and Autobots alike. "Ironhide, I think you were right," he held up the pipe for Ironhide to examine, looking off into the forest. "Ms. Laski indeed moved into the forest to escape the situation, but she did so injured; I suspect Ravage attacked her to gain his freedom." Ironhide examined the pipe, seeing the same thing Ratchet had. There was blood and skin on the pipe. It had once been red and still smelt of burnt flesh. Ironhide grunted.

"We'll have to search th' forest for 'er then," said Ironhide, but he noticed Ratchet staring at something in particular, the medic's shoulders slacking.

"I don't think we have to search so much as follow her trail," he said, kneeling down next to a boulder at the edge of the forest. There was a bloody smear in the general shape of a human hand. Another human walked up, noting the smear.

"Some of the other Autobots are already in the forest looking for more survivors," he explained. Ironhide nodded, but moved to enter the forest. Ratchet too stood up, moving into the crowded trees, kneeling down next to one and making note of another blood smear.

"She's been hurt, but I cannot ascertain whether the blood is hers or not. I have no samples of her DNA on record and Dr. Laski never submitted to having samples taken." Ironhide snorted to this, walking further into the forest.

"Ah told yeh he was a stubborn bastard," said Ironhide. He no longer stopped to wait for Ratchet, contacting the other Autobots in the area and alerting them to the situation. Each one of them were fed an image of the girl in question. Ratchet had managed a quick scan of her when she was fighting to hold Ravage back, it wasn't much to go on, but it was something.

"Ironhide," said Ratchet, catching up to him just as it started to rain. "If we do not find her soon…" Ratchet trailed off, startled by the way the weapon's master tensed.

"We'll find 'er, and we'll find 'er alive," he said. "I ain't gonna forget the debt I owe 'er for protecting Tabitha when I was foolish enough to let 'er out of my sights." Ratchet shook his head, shuttering his optics for a moment before continuing.

"We may not have a choice. She's been out here for who knows how many hours. It's growing colder, and now it's raining…" he paused. "You may not like what we find." Ironhide said nothing, shouldering the Medic aside once more, continuing through the forest.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Survive to be Rescued

The faint patter of rain that dripped onto her skin sounded more like marbles shattering a pane of glass. What would have been a cooling and relaxing sensation was more like needles being driven into every inch of exposed skin. Driving lances of pain into her body; causing sparks to dance in front of her eyes. Thunder swiftly followed the rain, crackling inside of her skull as she lay in the undergrowth exhausted. Streaks of mud, blood, and ash littered her skin along with the mix of sunburn and rope burn. What was left of her clothing had been ripped, little more then rags now as she lay under the fern bush feeling the remnants of vertigo leaving her system.

Reeling over onto her side the girl vomited a third time. Strings of bile connected her lips to the ground as she heaved, spitting up some of the ash that had made its way into her lungs. With a grunt of effort she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees coming to a stand by pulling herself up with a rotten log. Chipped and cracked fingernails dug into the moldy wood stirring up several insects that lived in the decayed matter. The sharp tang of rot stifled her breathing, but it could not overcome the smell of blood and vomit. Her feet planted themselves into the ground limping away from her hiding place. She could hear the sounds of a stream not too far away, if she could find that maybe there would be a way out of these woods. It was a half-hearted hope though. The things that attacked the research center had probably killed almost everyone and anyone who survived were probably in the same, or worse, condition she was.

The memory of the attack brought on the vertigo again. Her stomach cramped, her throat constricted and she gagged. Holding her mouth brought some respite to the compulsion to vomit again, but until she could rinse the taste out of her mouth the sensation would always be there at the back of her throat.

"Hang in there, Kathryn," she whispered to herself. Her voice was hoarse and rasped from the rawness of her throat, "hang in there." Kathryn stumbled forward placing a hand against every available tree she could find leaving smudges behind that she dare not look at. A throb ran up the length of her leg, a gash that had been clotted by leaves and other debris of the forest. It wasn't healthy she knew, but it was far better then bleeding to death and from the size of the wound it would have only taken her a matter of minutes to pass out. At this point Kathryn was well into shock her body was shaking and the vertigo wasn't bothering her as much anymore. Survival mode her uncle had called it; when your body numbs itself in order to get help. Kathryn had hoped never to experience it. When her uncle explained his time in the Vietnam War she'd shuddered at the very thought of having to remove her own limb in order to survive. Hopefully that would not be the case and she could find help before it became necessary.

Time was meaningless as Kathryn foraged her way through the dense undergrowth of the coniferous forest that she would normally stride through on any given day. The light was fading and the rain had started to pour. Soon there would be a thick storm overhead and there would be no chance that someone would accidentally stumble upon her prone form if she just lay down. Was it hours, minutes, seconds? Or days that she stumbled around in the woods, trying to hear the sound of the stream over thunder and rain? It was nearly impossible to tell which direction she was moving until her foot caught on a protruding rock, twisting her ankle, and sending Kathryn face first into the moving water.

With a sputtering cough she pushed herself up her face and hair already drenched from the rain. Her hands tapped at the water, her eyes not adjusted to the dark, before bringing her face down and gulping. The water was fresh and clear helping to clear the flavor of her mouth. After several mouthfuls Kathryn pulled herself up moving gingerly so as to not irritate her already injured leg. She was almost grateful that she'd twisted the ankle of her right leg which carried the deep cut across her thigh she wouldn't have two injured legs to walk on in the mean time. Her throat throbbed, the water not quite quenching the burn.

Lightning lanced across the sky startling a shriek out of her lungs. The illumination momentarily highlighted the fog that was rolling into the forest. Water dripped off the greenery onto the ground before the light was suddenly gone. The raucous boom of thunder that followed similarly had her jumping followed by the _rat-at-tat-tat_ of rain pounding down on the maple leaves above her head. Kathryn's entire body shuddered as the sound rattled through her ears. Echoes of missiles crashing, gun fire, screams…

It was another half hour before her stomach had settled enough that she could drink more water. By this point Kathryn had come to terms with the fact that it would be unwise to move around any more at night. It was impossible for her to find a road or building when she couldn't see. Even with the bolts of lightning that continuously cut across the sky there was no chance she could navigate the forest. Instead she pulled her left knee up to her chest and wrapped her arms around it while she shivered. Just like there was no chance for her to navigate, there was no way she would be able to construct a shelter to wait out the rain.

"I h-have to," she stuttered, her teeth chattering together. It felt like they were going to shatter if they hit any harder. "… have to stay awake." Her head drifted down onto her arms. Shoulders shaking in the wind and the rain; in the distance she could hear the sound of wood popping groaning under the pressure of the wind. Lightning bolted across the sky, thunder following soon after booming into existence.

"_Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,_" she whispered in as close to a sing-song voice as she could handle, "_starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;_" her eyes closed as she repeated the lullaby quietly to herself. Her older brother William's wife Janet sung it to their newborn every night to lull him to sleep. It was the same song William's and her mother sang to them when they were little. Janet had never used the custom, but when she'd heard Kathryn's mom sing it to her little grandchild it stuck with her. Kathryn never really realized how beautiful it was until she watched Janet and her mother sing it together while rocking baby Christian to sleep at night. She remembered the soft golden glow of the lamp. The rich brown and earthy tone of the rocking chair, the way the light brought out the wrinkles under her mother's eyes. Those wrinkles were both sad and happy. If her mother had never had kids would she have those wrinkles now? She always said that she and William were responsible for the gray hair on her head.

"_Mermaids are chanting the wild lorelie; over the streamlet vapors are borne,_" Kathryn sang, her voice choking as tears rolled down her cheeks. William was twenty five this year, and she'd be turning eighteen in August. Christian was going to be six months old pretty soon; he was growing up so fast even as a baby. Those bright blue eyes he inherited from his mom, while he got the tawny-brown hair from his dad's side of the family.

Kathryn tightened her hold on her good leg to steady herself while a sob racked through her ribs. She snuffled back against the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. Rain drops giving the illusion that she was crying anyway. Dirt slowly smeared down across her sun tanned and burnt skin. Her eyelids blinked over brown eyes. She was glad Christian hadn't gotten her families boring brown eyes. Brown hair and brown eyes was so common. She wished _she_ could have bright baby blue eyes too, but she was stuck with what she had, but she was glad he had another color other then brown. Even if her mom had always said she and William had "gorgeous" brown eyes. They were bland.

The sudden crack of a falling tree caught her attention; snapping her out of her reprieve. Kathryn pushed herself up, groaning at the pressure on her leg and stumbled a few steps up stream. Her eyes widened, lightning glancing across the sky and illuminating the immediate area. She swallowed against the sticky bile that coated her throat listening intently. With a crack of thunder she screamed, falling backwards into the stream pushing herself away from the opposite bank and up against a tree. Her head whipped from side to side trying to catch a glimpse or flash of metal. The flare of a fuse or burst of a missile being launched, or the sudden and sharp pops of red light that meant bullets were being fired. There was nothing.

"Hello?" she called, to be sure, "is anyone there?" Only the crackle of thunder followed her words. The rain pounding harder and the groan of the trees increasing as the wind picked up. Kathryn huddled against the tree, thankful for the support at the very least. She let her forehead rest against her knee again, her side pressing up against the tree feeling the bite of the bark on the exposed skin of her shoulder. With a sigh she returned to singing the lullaby, her voice tired and sore. If only she could stay awake until the storm broke morning couldn't be that far away could it?

It wasn't long before shock and exhaustion won over her resolve. Kathryn was curled up at the base of the tree, her injured right leg sticking out from her body with her foot in the stream as the storm continued to rage on well past midnight. When she'd crossed the stream it had barely made it past the ten o'clock hour. It wouldn't be until five o'clock in the morning before the sun peeked its way through and even then that was only if the storm let up.

By two o'clock in the morning the lightning had diminished and the thunder was a distant rumble. It was still pouring outside and her entire body was soaked through. The leaves, dirt, and debris that clotted the wound in her leg were slowly oozing out of her skin, loosening and the faint crunch of approaching footsteps went unheard until they were close and even then Kathryn didn't quite wake up a slow groan escaping her lips as blinding lights flashed down from above.

"I've found one," called a voice. The crunch of wood snapping and breaking followed as more voices joined the first.

"She's badly damaged, should we not leave her and look for other survivors?" said another voice, this one far gruffer then the first. Kathryn moved, pulling an arm across her side and trying to open her eyes, but they were badly encrusted. It was painful to try and open them. She tried to push herself up, tried to lean against the tree, but a pressure on her back stopped her.

"Settle yourself youngling," said yet a third voice, this one older and calming, "we will be doing no such thing. The child needs medical attention. We can transport her and still search for others." He was obviously speaking to the person who opted to leave her behind. Kathryn felt a cold pressure being applied to her leg before something hot and wet spread over the skin. Red lanced across her closed eyes, her teeth grinding against themselves as the pain twined itself up to her hips like a hot rod iron. There was a muttered curse she couldn't quite understand as more pressure applied itself to her leg slowing the blood flow. The rain was falling on top of something metal the patter reaching her ears, and wasn't falling on top of her even though she was lying in the grass. Her brain was fogged and she couldn't quite remember how she'd gotten here in the first place. The crunching sound increased and a sharp pain stabbed its way into her leg before a flood of relief washed through her system. The pain reliever they gave her acted almost immediately. Distantly she could feel the pressure of what they were doing, field dressing her leg and checking her over for any other severe damage, but Kathryn was soon higher then a kite; a blanket soon being wrapped around her body once her leg was bandaged.

Kathryn was slowly slipping into a fog of unconsciousness and only distantly felt her body being lifted onto a stretcher. That made no sense, how could there be a stretcher and a vehicle? Was she closer to the road then she thought she had been? But no, no it couldn't have been a stretcher because she was soon lying on top of leather padded seats, hot air flowing from the vents. The warm purr of a diesel motor caressed her ears and voices speaking in the background about searching in a grid pattern to discover other survivors. Someone was asked to remain here to keep her warm and safe; to radio back if there were any difficulties. Kathryn snuggled herself into the blanket wrapped around her pillowing her head on top of her arm. Her head wasn't throbbing any more and she couldn't feel her leg. It was all rather unnerving, but she couldn't concentrate long enough to be concerned.

As soon as Kathryn was safely tucked inside of Ratchet's terrestrial form and the others had spread out to search for survivors, Ironhide turned on Gears, the Autobot who had suggested leaving her behind, and grabbed him by the front of his armor lifting the much smaller Autobot into the air. Gears yelled, smashing his fist into Ironhide's arms when the larger 'bot pushed his back against a tree.

"Ironhide," Rachet said wearily, though he too wished to give Gears a piece of his processor. Of all the Autobots, Gears was the one with the foulest temper and the most likely to leave one of the humans behind. At the beginning of the war on Earth Ironhide had also seen little value in their human allies, but after ten years already spent fighting the Decepticons on this planet he'd learned to admire the human's courage, but Gears had only recently come to the planet. He had a lot to learn.

"We do _not_ leave th' innocent behind, Gears, d' you understand that?" Ironhide said into Gears' faceplates. "D'yeh even realize who this girl is?" It seemed Ironhide's temper hadn't calmed down since his confrontation with Starscream, but Gears was unfazed by Ironhide's show of anger. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest as much as he could and hung there in Ironhide's grip; Ratchet's form idling, slowly warming up the girl who had become hypothermic in the rain.

"What does it matter? The Doc's experiments were obviously a failure, lookit Tabitha and the others, d'you really think this brat'll be able ta–" Ratchet groaned, Gears knew that the one thing you didn't mention around Ironhide in a negative manner were Tabitha and the other children.

Ironhide's grip tightened on Gears' front paneling, the metal groaning and warping under his touch. The weapon's master allowed another burst of over-heated air to erupt from his vents before he simply dropped Gears onto the ground. Looming over him the primarily black mech was more intimidating when he acted calm when he was obviously angry.

"I don' expect anythin' out of 'er," said Ironhide, a growl escaping his vocoder. "Th' 'cons decided t' make 'er a target of theirs, an' she helped save Tabs' life at th' facility. Even if we didn' know who 'er father was, we owe 'er a debt jus' fer that."

"Hmph, s'far as I care you could scrap 'em all and toss 'em in a pile," said Gears, standing up and 'dusting' himself off. The armor rattled and clanged before he finally transformed himself into a Chinese Kiff. A small SUV type vehicle specially made for off-roading, similar to a Jeep.

"Gears be _quiet_," said Ratchet, he'd felt Kathryn stirring inside of his cab, she wasn't quite unconscious yet, but the painkiller was helping to fog her mind and keep her calm. He'd altered his interior, settling Kathryn out on top of his seat, turning it parallel with his outer paneling. Small probes and tools were gently cleaning her wounds. Her hands would be the hardest to repair. A human's hands and feet were some of the most complex mechanisms he'd ever seen in an organic. By far the most bones and tiny tendons were located in these areas. She'd lost a decent amount of muscle mass, but thankfully Ratchet knew how to mimic the tissue with something artificial. As long as no other human doctors probed inside of her hands they wouldn't be able to tell that he'd replaced it.

Kathryn murmured slightly when Ratchet carefully cleaned the crust from her eyes. He was certain that it was part of the debris from the fire that had managed to forge them shut. As soon as he'd finished cleaning her eyes she opened them, just faintly. Her brown eyes were out of focus and he highly doubted she could see any further then a few centimeters in front of her face. Her skin shivered, clammy and cold still. He dare not warm her up too quickly after she'd gone hypothermic and he was hesitant to remove the outer layer humans called 'clothing' to treat her. Her continued shivering finally made the decision for him, he couldn't allow anything from her clothing reentering her wounds and infecting them once he'd finished repairing them; not that there was much left of her clothing after using a portion of her shirt for keeping the ash out of Tabitha's lungs and scrambling through the forest.

Ratchet started the process of carefully cutting through the denim she was wearing on her legs, remembering the bloodied trail they'd been forced to follow. Her right foot had lost its covering a while back and there were several smaller cuts that, thankfully, would only need a wash to repair. Kathryn stirred slightly in the oblivion of the mixed formula he'd injected her with. It wasn't enough to knock her out; he had to maintain surveillance on her brain. She was suffering from a small concussion, but if the swelling worsened he would need to help lessen the pressure.

Once he'd removed the denim he brought his attention to the remainders of her shirt. Her eyes were still cracked open, still trying to focus on her surroundings, but when he brought his utensil forward and began cutting her shirt she stirred, moving. Ratchet stopped, not wanting to injure her by mistake.

"Please, remain still," he said soothingly, "you're hypothermic, we must remove your clothing so your body will absorb the heat more easily," he was doing his best to explain in simplistic terms, it would be extremely difficult for Kathryn to understand what he was saying as it was. Rather then remaining still, Kathryn inserted one of her arms into the shirt, wincing and gasping at the pain when her skin pulled on her hands. She slowly shrugged herself out of half of her shirt, the one arm remaining through its corresponding hole. The effort had been too much, her eyes tightened, scrunching together while she panted. Her chest rising and falling in pained gasps. Ratchet re-scanned her, examining her ribs. There were no cracks or breaks, but she may have bruised one or two of them. Ironhide had told him that Shockwave had dropped both her and Tabitha, but it was Kathryn who'd taken the brunt of the fall.

Ratchet carefully used two of his mechanical instruments to pull a blanket up and over Kathryn's body to protect her modesty. Most humans were easily insulted, but when they were injured or hurt they needed as much protection as possible. Sometimes it came in the simplest form of a piece of cloth hiding areas that the populace deemed inappropriate.

"Wh…" a faint pant came from Kathryn, her fingers twitching. Ratchet was working on both of her hands and her leg at the same time, cleaning out the wound was not as dangerous as it had been before. Ratchet had applied a haemostatic to cause the wound to clot, but to be certain he applied another layer of anesthetic to her wounds, being certain she would not feel as he worked on her. "Who're… who're you?" She stirred a bit more, her eyes closing. Ratchet detached what remained of the muscle that acted as the palm of her hand, carefully snipping the ligaments off of the delicate bones.

"A friend," he said calmly, "please remain still, we need to treat your wounds before they have a chance to become infected," she nodded quietly. It was refreshing to have a human who listened to him for once. He allowed Kathryn to resettle herself before he continued to work, suturing the wound in her leg and applying the artificiall muscle to the delicate bones in her hand. It would take some time for her to learn to control her hand again, but it wouldn't be impossible. Some minor therapy and she should regain all control.

Once the skin grafts were in place and the searchers returned with no more survivors the Autobots agreed it was time to send their own injured, along with Tabitha, Kathryn, and Dr. Keswick back to the Autobot's base.

_She felt lost, everywhere and nowhere at once. It was dark. Her breath came in heavy gasps, hands clasped over her mouth to keep her from screaming. She felt like she was drowning, suffocating, it didn't matter, she couldn't breathe. It was cold, frigid, but hot at the same time. Sweat dripped from her nose, her eyes took in the emptiness around her._

_ A flash, bright light blinded her. She fell, dropping through the air with a scream that didn't escape her lips. Her lungs burned, her hands reaching up to catch herself in the empty darkness. She cried out, screaming for someone, anyone to help her._

_ She landed, hard, metal plating making itself known beneath her. There was a pulse; a pair of bright blue lights flew in front of her eyes, strange towers erupting from the ground, spearing towards the nonexistent sky. Tabitha was screaming, running away from something Kathryn couldn't see. She tried to get up, tried to push herself away from the metal, but a clamp wrapped itself around her body, tightening, squeezing the life out of her. She screamed, her voice now echoing strangely, looking down at Tabitha's prone form. Blood bubbled from the girl's lips, a pool around her body, her green eyes vacant of life. Her body slowly disintegrating into blue glowing dust; Kathryn felt tears dripping down her face calling out Tabitha's name over and over again._

_ Laughter. It echoed around her, the grip around her body tightened, four fingers and a thumb keeping her captive. Wrapped tight like a twisted straight jacket. Kathryn closed her eyes, but she could still _see_, a pair of blood red eyes looked down on her, serrated metal teeth parting in a sinister smile. The laughter was coming from the creature. The blue lights from before warped around him, the metal paneling of his chest renting open, the screech of metal painful on Kathryn's ears. She screamed again, struggling to remove her arms from his grip._

_ Her eyes widened in horror, released and floating mid-air as the giant extended his arms outward almost pulling the blue pulsating orbs towards him. Kathryn reached out; there was something precious about those orbs. She didn't want him to have them._

_ There in his chest, another orb. One that was as dark as the others were bright. Flickers of red pulsed within the purple-black expanse of its form within the chamber. She called out, willing the two smaller orbs to escape. They moved further from her, she pushed herself, moving forward. Her hands reached out, trying to grasp them, calling for them to return; that they couldn't join with him._

_ Brown eyes widened, Kathryn couldn't stop, she was being pulled forward. She struggled, fighting against the pull, the allure of the dark energy she could feel pulsating in front of her. Her eyes closed, opened, her hand touched the dark sphere. Pain lanced up her hand, her body crumbled…_

Kathryn's eyes opened, her pulse reacting madly. She sat straight up, wincing at the pain in her hands. Her mother sitting in a chair next to her, arms reaching out and grasping her daughter around her shoulders. Tears, wet and hot, dripped down Kathryn's neck as her mother sobbed into her shoulder. Kathryn looked down at her mother in confusion, eyeing the bandages on her hands. What had happened?


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Recovery

"_What do you mean she 'cannot' return home with me_?" Kathryn winced at her mother's tone of voice, hoping she didn't wake any of the other patients. It had been a week already since the strange 'accident' at the metal works facility. The officials were explaining it away as a chemical reaction that went tragically wrong. Apologies and blood money had already been sent out to the families of the children and faculty members who'd died. As far as Kathryn knew she was the only one who survived and that was pure dumb luck on her part.

"I've explained, Ma'm, but she will need physical therapy to help her regain control of her hands. The right hand is particularly damaged and we–" Dr. Stover was cut off by her mother's huff.

"You've explained that she needs physical therapy, yes, but you have not explained _why she must remain here in THIS facility_," her mother replied sharply. Kathryn looked down at her bandaged hands, moving her leg stiffly. There was an extensive cut down her leg. It was healing, it'd been sutured, but it was going to take a long time for it to heal and she'd most likely have a scar afterward. Kathryn sighed and leaned back against the bed. She was still moderately hyped up on painkillers, but it still hurt.

Her fingers twitched, but otherwise for now it seemed that was as far as she'd get. Served her right for… for doing what? Kathryn shut her eyes, shaking her head. No. No she didn't want to remember what had happened. If she kept her mouth shut nothing bad would happen. No one needed to know about giant multi-story tall robots attacking defenseless students… crushing them…

This wasn't the first time Kathryn had to make a move for the bucket at her side. It was nearly impossible for her to keep anything down for very long. Either her memories would return or she'd dream of what had happened. Every time she remembered she'd shake; sweating profusely. She couldn't control when the panic attacks would come. Why had it been so much easier to deal with it in the moment? Why was she having such a hard time now?

Cool hands clasped themselves against her neck, pulling her hair out of the way. This time hadn't been so bad. She'd merely dry heaved and nothing had come up. Maybe she was getting better. With her eyes clamped shut she couldn't see who was responsible for holding her steady, but she was grateful for it. With her hands in bandages and her leg torn up she had been feeling completely helpless.

"T-thanks," she voiced shakily. Her eyes were watering and her nose wrinkled in a sneeze, her head jerking forward out of the person's hands before she pulled herself up, letting herself lean back and rest for a moment just in case a stronger panic attack followed the smaller one. After a few deep breaths she felt better.

"No problem," responded a familiar voice. Kathryn's head jerked up sharply looking into the eyes of Dr. Keswick.

"D-Dr. Keswick," Kathryn stammered, her eyes widening in surprise, "b-but the… the facility the atta–" Dr. Keswick shook her head sharply, tilting it to where Kathryn could still hear her mother fighting with the doctor who was treating her. Kathryn's mouth shut with a snap of her teeth prompting a smile out of the fierce woman standing at her side. Dr. Keswick sat down on the left side of the bed, trying to stay away from Kathryn's injured right leg.

"Kathryn," said the Doctor, her voice quiet. "We need to talk," Kathryn felt her heart throb steady in her chest. Goosebumps rose up on her skin. What a line to deliver after everything that'd happened.

"If you're going to talk about… about _them_…" Kathryn trailed off, looking out the window away from the Doctor. For a few minutes, during which she could have sworn she heard her mother slap the doctor, Kathryn looked back to Dr. Keswick, sighing at the way the Doctor was looking at her. "I'm sorry," said Kathryn, "but… I don't _want_ to be in the middle of this."

"I don't have time for your childish behavior," said Dr. Keswick. "Whether you _want_ it or not–"

"_Childish_?" Kathryn questioned, her voice hissing quietly. She sat up and ground her teeth together, "what part of what I went through could _possibly_ label my behavior as _childish_?" Dr. Keswick seemed taken aback by what Kathryn was saying. Kathryn pushed herself up as best she could, slowly stepping down out of the bed and standing up so the doctor was forced to look at the wound on the side of her leg. Dr. Stover had been about to change the bandaging when her mother had walked in, the black thread used to stitch up her leg was visible, but vanished under the over-sized grey t-shirt she was wearing. Kathryn didn't stay still long enough for Dr. Keswick to look long, moving to the window and leaning against it.

Out on the balcony she could see the sunlight. Kathryn wished desperately that she could go outside right now, but she knew she had to wait until Dr. Stover had bandaged her leg. This was one of those high-end hospitals, where there were all sorts of things for patients to do while they sat around healing, but honestly Kathryn just wanted to go home. As soon as she'd awoken from that nightmare she'd had a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. She never felt like she was 'alone'. There was always a sense of something _watching_. Something she couldn't even begin to understand. What made it harder on her was she _wanted_ to understand. She wanted to know _why_, but she couldn't bring herself to ask the question. Her brain was telling her she shouldn't put her nose into something she didn't understand, but her curiosity was telling her to go for it.

"I'm sorry," said Dr. Keswick suddenly. Kathryn started slightly, almost tripping and hissing when she put too much weight on her leg. "I shouldn't have called you childish, not after what you did and what you witnessed." Dr. Keswick looked down at Kathryn, pinning her with her brown-black eyes. Kathryn felt like her stomach fell down to the floor, anchoring itself there so she couldn't move without tearing it out. The doctor gently placed a hand on Kathryn's left shoulder, rubbing her thumb against the light grey colored t-shirt Kathryn was wearing that day. Kathryn's heart rate picked up. She was too uncomfortable for Dr. Keswick to do that.

"Please don't touch me," Kathryn voiced, trying to pull herself away from Dr. Keswick. The doctor looked up at her in surprise, but removed her hand from Kathryn's shoulder, shrugging her own and folding her arms together. Kathryn stepped back away from her and looked out the window again, rubbing her hand against her arm. It was the most she could do for now. "Too many people have been touching me lately, and I don't mean the doctors."

Dr. Keswick's eyes sharpened grabbing onto Kathryn's shoulders and pulling her close, staring directly into her eyes. Kathryn winced at the pain as the doctor's sharp nails dug into her arms. Her fingers pushing against her already sore limbs; looking into her eyes and just staring at her, Kathryn began to shake. Dr. Keswick's fingers dug in further, dragging Kathryn forward until she was just barely inches away from the other woman.

"Wha-what do you want?" Kathryn asked, suddenly afraid uncomfortable with the heat radiating off of Dr. Keswick's body, her own breasts were almost pressed against Dr. Keswick's. Kathryn shuddered and tried to pull away. The doctor seemed to snap out of her stare-down and looked at Kathryn, moving her hand and looking at her arm.

"Who?" asked Dr. Keswick. Kathryn shivered and tried to pull herself away, but the other woman wouldn't release her grip. How could such a scrawny woman be so blasted strong? Or rather how could Kathryn, in the prime of her life, feel so weak?

"W-what?" Kathryn stammered.

"Who else touched you?" Dr. Keswick demanded to know, her voice hoarse with impatience.

"Some… some guy," said Kathryn. "At the grocer's store, name was John…"

"John Wright?" Dr. Keswick interrupted. The hand on Kathryn's right arm tightened, squeezing her bicep. "What happened exactly?" She finally let go of Kathryn, letting the girl back up into a corner. Kathryn inhaled deeply, her heart pounding against her ribs. She felt her body shaking, her face paled. She was in the grip of a familiar panic attack. Being cornered wasn't helping. Dr. Keswick walked up to her, studying the younger woman intently. Kathryn sank down onto a knee, forcing her damaged right leg out. Her breath came in quick pants, her pupils dilating, becoming pinpricks in her brown eyes. Her skin rippling with goose flesh, sweat beading on her forehead, her teeth clenching tight; the pit of her stomach felt like it was just _gone. _She couldn't breath.

"Kathryn," Dr. Keswick said, kneeling down. "Kathryn?" She tilted her head, noticing how Kathryn seemed unresponsive. "Damn it," she cursed, backing away with a puff of lilac perfume following her. Kathryn exhaled shallowly as the doctor moved to the other side of the room. Dr. Keswick had read Kathryn's file after her mother had submitted it. She'd forgotten that Kathryn had acute claustrophobia. Any kind of limitation on her own personal space could send her into a panic attack. If she suffered a severe one she would pass out from it; unable to remain conscious because of the fear.

"_If you think I'm going to allow _my_ daughter to remain_…" Dr. Keswick could still here Mrs. Laski arguing with Dr. Stover. Dr. Keswick didn't believe the woman would win the argument, but from her tone of voice she didn't doubt Mrs. Laski would attempt to sneak her daughter out of the hospital. She'd have to remind the Autobots to keep a close eye on Kathryn's room. If Mrs. Laski took her daughter off this base, unknowing of the dangers…

"H-he…" Kathryn stammered, her eyes closed; trying to control her breathing. "He just grabbed me," Kathryn said. "There was this weird sting, but I thought he was just wearing a ring and it pinched my skin." Kathryn exhaled again, slowly. She'd had a lot of practice controlling her attacks, but with her body in such bad shape, being so helpless it wasn't surprising it had only taken Dr. Keswick grabbing her like that to trigger one. Kathryn was looking down at the pale blue and white tile floor, staring at it. She couldn't see any scuffing or marks from it. It looked as brand new as the place smelled. There were no antiseptics, no bleach, none of that lingering sick-smell that made Kathryn gag whenever she walked into a hospital. It was all clean.

Thankfully, Dr. Stover walked back in with her mother before Dr. Keswick could say anything more. Not so thankfully her mother was the first one to notice her daughter in such a delicate and vulnerable position. Mrs. Laski's eyes widened, rushing over to her daughter in a flurry of light rose-colored cloth. She knelt down close to Kathryn and settled a hand along her daughter's pale cheek. Kathryn was cold, clammy from one of her panic attacks. Her eyes wouldn't focus quite right on her mother's face, and when Mrs. Laski touched her Kathryn shrank away from her own mother's touch.

It took coaxing from her mother to get Kathryn back up on the bed where Dr. Stover could re-clean and bandage the wound on her leg. Mrs. Laski was fuming. Her nostrils flared, arms crossed tight across her bosom, her right leg out slightly while her left held up her body's weight. She was leaning _away_ from the doctor, her light rose-colored jacket, white skirt and mint green blouse wrinkled from her long trip. Mrs. Laski had explained to Kathryn that she had to take a plane trip all the way down to California just to see her daughter. They were situated near the Rocky Mountains far out from any local town. Mrs. Laski had been livid when she'd arrived and saw Kathryn in the condition she'd been in. Why hadn't she been called? Why hadn't they brought her daughter to a _local_ hospital?

"Kathryn," Dr. Keswick spoke, but she was cut off when Kathryn's mother latched onto her arm, much like Dr. Keswick had done moments ago to Kathryn. Mrs. Laski's fingers dug into the woman's arm, her eyes smoldering.

"Who gave you the authority to come _into my daughter's room_ and _interrogate_ _her_?" Mrs. Laski demanded, but she didn't wait for an answer. She shoved Dr. Keswick to the door, screaming at her to get out and not to come back. Kathryn's mother turned back on Dr. Stover, the Doctor flinching under Kathryn's mother's gaze.

"My daughter _will_ be leaving this facility when she is able. She will continue her physical therapy at a hospital of _my_ choosing." The doctor was speechless for a moment, but when he attempted to open his mouth Mrs. Laski cut him off. "_Obviously_ if one of your _personnel_ is so foolish as to trigger an episode with my daughter, not bothering to understand she suffers from claustrophobia, then there is _no reason_ for her to remain in your care."

The doctor was at a loss of what to say. He wanted to argue, but there was no mistaking the anger in the woman's voice. His shoulders lowered, pepper-and-salt hair being combed through by his hands. Honestly he wasn't that old, roughly about fifty year maybe. Deep set hazel eyes were buried under bushy eyebrows. His head was slightly balding, and there were frown lines around his mouth as if he dealt with life-threatening, but the look of defeat that was on him now was almost complete. He rubbed the back of his neck with a heaving sigh.

"Unfortunately," he said calmly, "the decision is not up to me and I'll need to speak to my superiors. You have to understand Mrs. Laski, your daughter would be granted the finest care here at our facility," Mrs. Laski tapped her fingers on her arm, nails glinting in the light, her mouth a thin line and her eyes narrowed. "but," continued the doctor, "if you insist, then I will speak to my superior about this and see if I can convince them to release Kathryn to another facilities care."

It took a few weeks for Kathryn to start walking properly and to regain some of the motor control in her hands. If it weren't for her mother pushing her she probably wouldn't have gotten as far as she had, but it wasn't all good news. Kathryn was still having difficulties sleeping. Dr. Stover tried to explain that she was suffering from memories from the accident. Kathryn never argued that it wasn't an accident. That it was the work of giant robots. She never asked questions, never objected to the amount of physical therapy. Never complained about being tired, but she never mentioned the nightmares.

It was three weeks into the therapy that she was finally released to her mother's care. Her motorcycle she'd been told had been returned to her home. What's more the company was offering to pay for her expenses in the hospital and the trip for her mom. Not to mention the cost it would take for them to go home. Both she and her mother refused. Not only did they not want to be in debt to the company, but they just wanted to leave everything behind them. After her father's death they had plenty of money; neither of them had ever been comfortable knowing just how much money they and her brother actually had. To say they were 'well off' was an understatement.

Mrs. Laski lead her daughter out into the parking lot where Kathryn expected to see a taxi sitting there waiting for them. What she saw instead was a large red and black decaled Ford F-450 XL. The thing was _massive_; easily weighing in at a gross weight combined rating of thirteen thousand and three hundred pounds or more, Kathryn wasn't completely positive. It was effectively an on-road tank similar to the GMC Topkick. The Topkick was taller than the Ford, almost as tall as a semi, and had a slightly more stout design which Kathryn had never much cared for. The truck was a deep red with a black spider-like design on its hood and a web pattern over the wheel wells. A single thread of webbing moved back over the roof of the truck and a simple red design was seated at the base of the spider; a red back spider.

Kathryn's mom pulled out a set of keys, dangling them in front of her daughter. The key fob had a similar design as the truck did on its hood. Kathryn gaped at the truck, then back at her mother. She didn't want to _think_ about the kind of money her mother had spent on the damn thing. Blast it she'd told her mother she'd save up for an old beater herself that she didn't need her to go out and buy one for her.

"Well?" Her mother asked her expression indicative of a kitten in the crème. "Do you like it? I thought you'd appreciate the paint job. It's kinda one of those 'I'm sexy, I know it, but you can't have it' kind of paint jobs." She smiled and nudged her daughter slightly. Kathryn opened and closed her mouth before she turned to her mother. _Rounded_ on her was more like it. Mrs. Laski could only laugh at her daughter's angered face. Her own cheeks growing rosy with laughter, laughter derived from how upset her daughter was over the gift her mother was giving her.

"We _talked_ about this mom," Kathryn groaned. "I want to earn my keep as a normal person. You don't have to give me something like this." Frustrated tears were edging on Kathryn's eyes, blurring her vision. Her mother stopped laughing and leaned forward to her daughter, wrapping her arms around her daughter's shoulder. She hugged Kathryn tight and pulled her close, kissing the top of Kathryn's tawny brown hair. Kathryn stepped back away from her mom, shrugging her shoulders and cupping her right hand over her left arm, looking at the truck.

"Kathryn," said her mother. "The doctor said it'll be a while before you'll be able to ride your bike and I'm not going to let you ride it during the winter. I know that you've got a bit of a problem with smaller vehicles, but you're too stubborn to let me buy you a truck, so I decided this was the perfect chance to just give you one," Kathryn's mom looked to the side, her eyes distant. "You know we have the money after your father's accident, and even if he were here he'd want you to be comfortable."

"Did you have to hit me with the mushy stuff?" Kathryn asked. Her voice still held a bit of venom in it, but she understood why her mother had gone behind her back like this. With a dejected sigh she walked with her mom over to the truck… over to _her_ truck. Kathryn leant down and looked at the dual wheels in the back, an extra feature that she only saw once in a while. She went over every inch of the massive beast before she moved her fingers delicately over the web pattern on the wheel well.

"So?" Her mom asked, walking to stand next to Kathryn.

"How much?" Kathryn asked, looking up at her mom.

"What does it matter, it's a g–"

"How much did it cost?" Kathryn asked more forcefully then she intended to. Her mom shifted uncomfortably. It was times like these that she had to remind herself that her mom often acted no older then she was; a side effect after loosing her husband. There'd been a few years where William was forced to take care of Kathryn and his mother. It'd toughened him up, but Kathryn's mom never forgave herself for it.

"It doesn't matter," her mom said finally before she walked away to the driver's side. Kathryn groaned. She'd pushed the wrong way now she'd never know how much the truck cost so she could pay her mother back. "Get in the truck we're going to be driving home. It's about time you and I had a vacation of our own anyway and since you can't drive yet I guess I'll be the one driving. We'll hit all the malls, and get our nails done, and…" while Kathryn's mom rambled on and on Kathryn found herself climbing delicately up into the cab of the truck. She still couldn't quite bend her leg, the stitches kept it stiff, and while her hands were better she couldn't hold onto anything too tightly for fear of ripping out those stitches.

Once inside of the Cab Kathryn carefully, delicately shut the door. She inhaled, exhaled. Leaned back against the leather seats and rested her head back. Inhaled, exhaled. She felt her heart trip a couple of times. Her hands carefully reaching over and taking the seat belt and running it over her body; she inhaled. The beat of her heart remained steady, it pulsed only a little faster then normal. Her mom turned the key, the warm purr of a fine tuned diesel motor accompanied her exhale. Her eyes opened, she felt a faint prick of fear on the back of her neck, but she slowly settled herself back into the oversized seat. The seat was pushed all the way back so she could have her leg stretched out; forcing her into a reclined position almost.

With a sigh Kathryn let herself relax. She didn't feel the tell-tale signs of an immanent panic attack, and as her mom put the truck into reverse she felt her eye lids drooping. She felt the seat vibrating with the engine motor, a quiet country tune playing on the radio. Her mom was into country and Kathryn didn't mind it. No form of music was bad; it just really depended on the mood you were in. Right now all she wanted to do was sleep. She was going home. She was safe.

The last thing Kathryn remembered before she fell asleep was the smell of _her_ new truck. The leather upholstery, the faint tang of the air conditioning coming on, and the air freshener her mother had chosen. Kathryn's brown eyes fluttered shut, reclining back in the chair with her head lulled to the side, the first real sleep she'd had in the last three weeks.

_The volcano was an excellent choice,_ thought Starscream. His metal feet snapping into the ground as he paced inside of his private quarters. A small half-filled cube of energon sat at his desk. A screen up on it with a list of supplies he was forced to oversee. None of the others were quite as competent as he was. None of the others were as _brilliant_ as he was. Who else would have thought to build the Decepticon base in a literal well of natural energy? Who else could have the tenacity to suggest using the Autobot spawn to their advantage?

_Soundwave_? Air moved through Starscream's turbines and vents, his form of a scoff. _That one track processor of his could never conceive a means of using those brats to our advantage._ Starscream stepped up to a 'window' of the volcano. Watching the molten rock bubbling inside of a deep chasm; why dig for natural occurring energon when they could mass produce it from another, more reliable raw source? He had no doubt the Autobots had their own mines and refineries established on this pitiful excuse for a planet, but they would not have thought to use one of the natural occurring volcanoes. No; too dangerous for their human _pets_.

There was one thorn in his side. The one metaphorical stone that was in his path: Shockwave. Together he and Soundwave made a formidable force. No matter his coaxing, no matter his logic he could not convince the two that _Lord_ Megatron was a lost cause, that his attempt to unite with Unicron's spark was his last true folly. Both of the higher rank Decepticons were adamant that Megatron could be resurrected and for now Starscream had to oblige them.

Looking around his quarters Starscream noticed the modest furnishing. The metal surrounded him were apart of the Decepticon ship Blitzkrieg, the very ship Shockwave himself had arrived to earth upon. It had been heavily damaged and as a result the metal had been taken and used to help form the more heat-sensitive areas of the base. After another coating of heat-resistant solution it made the perfect protection against the volcanoes intense heat.

A recharge berth, single chair, desk, and computer terminal were situated within his quarters. In the room adjoining it was the oil bathing chamber. It was impossible to rid himself of the moisture and humidity on this cursed planet. Even within the volcano moisture seemed to cling to his armored form and yet it was the planet's inhabitants that were to be his race's salvation.

The thought of the humans being the key to their survival was disgusting. Such inferior creatures, but even the most inferior of creatures had their place… polishing the heel of his armored foot. Bowing before _him_; the one, _true_, leader of the Decepticons.

"To the future," said Starscream, a twisted smile rippling across his faceplates before he drained the last of the energon. He settled the cube down onto his desk and sauntered out of his room, a commanding air of importance surrounding his frame.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Spy

Decepticon command held a vast array of computer councils. It had dual functionality as their communication's center as well. A platform hovered above the workers where two Decepticons stood, standing in front of the largest screen in the room. Several drones, servant class, were situated at the computer councils. Wires and cables hung from their bodies, completely hooked into the computer system so they might respond immediately when new information was submitted to the mainframe. Soundwave stood at the front of the room, overseeing everything and interfacing with the computers himself. He was the eyes and the ears of the Decepticons. Anything that happened on the planet Soundwave would be the one to learn of it.

His face was taken up by a display visor, his arms resting at his side as he observed the surrounding drones. His body was sleek and angular; his chosen alternate form that of a stealth surveillance jet. Its form was similar to the RQ-4 Global Hawk the humans had created, but much of his design remained Cybertronian.. Far sleeker and more dangerous then the Global Hawk, anyone who could detect Soundwave moving through the air deserved to see the Decepticon.

Soundwave, unlike the rest of their army, had a position outside of the usual structure because of his loyalty to Megatron and dedication to the Decepticon army. Shockwave stood at his side, arms crossed over his chest plate as he observed the feed back of their most recent attempt to take the child from the Autobots. The child they called 'Tabitha' was only one of their targets, there were three others, but unlike the eldest female of eight years, the other three were younger and rarely withdrew from the Autobot base. Their recent discovery of Dr. Laski's daughter was a surprise, but not one that changed their over-all plans, rather it improved them.

"Increase global surveillance," Shockwave said, turning to face the drones. His voice echoed eerily in the command center. It traveled above the sound of tapping servos inputting commands into the central computer system. His single eye refocused again on the display screen in front of him. A silent conversation going on between himself and Soundwave; though the stealth 'con rarely spoke aloud actual speech was not his only way of communicating. Shockwave focused his cyclopean gaze onto Soundwave, the single orb refocusing with the near-silent sound of inner mechanisms whirring. His gaze did not remain on Soundwave for long before he turned and pointed at a specific location. Soundwave gave him a nod and gestured to another area of the map. Another silent exchange processed between the pair before Starscream allowed a faint puff of air to escape his vents, imitating a human clearing its throat.

"I do hate to interrupt, but have you determined the location the Autobots have brought the girl?" Starscream crossed his hands behind his back, clawed servos intertwining. "It would be to our benefit if we could locate Dr. Laski's chemical compound relatively soon."

"Starscream," said Shockwave, turning to eye the second in command of the Decepticons. Shockwave was as close to Starscream's equal as any of the Decepticons present. Between Shockwave and Soundwave they almost outweighed Starscream's authority, but even combined the two could not undermine his commands out right. It did, however, make things difficult for Starscream.

Soundwave didn't move from his position, studying the map in front of him intently. Shockwave moved towards the second in command, his steps thundering on the metal platform the three stood upon. His singular orb flashed slightly as he approached Starscream, his primarily purple-toned grey metal body was covered in battle scars. Shockwave's form was slightly nostalgic by human standards. His alternate form resembled a World War II M6 Class tank, but like Soundwave he retained much of his own cybertronian functionality. Shockwave had long ago sacrificed his second arm to create an ion cannon so powerful that he was required to anchor himself to the ground in both terrestrial disguise and in his transformed state just to fire it. It made him both an asset and a liability on the battle field.

Shockwave came to a stop in front of the Seeker. An expansive wave of heat roiled out of Shockwave's vents; distorting the air at his sides with the radiation. Shockwave despised the volcanic lair Starscream had chosen as the primary Decepticon base. He was forced to eject air at a rapid rate because of his size. At a full story and a half taller then Starscream and broader all around, it was difficult for the Shockwave to maintain a proper systems temperature. At times there was a constant flow of air moving through his intakes and out his vents giving the illusion that he was breathing; breathing like a human. The idea was repulsive. That he should require imitating the beings on this planet. It disgusted him, being forced to maintain such a delicate balance in order to protect his sensitive circuitry. All of this because Starscream was slag-headed and refused to sacrifice the mech-power in order to mine for raw energon.

"By the pit, Starscream, what would you have us do? Scour the planet by hand, leaving it barren all in order to quench your latest obsession?" Another blast of over heated air exhaled itself from his system. The heat wave rolled over Starscream's body, forcing the flier to retreat several steps. "Our only duty is to revive Lord Megatron and return him to his rightful place as the Leader of the Decepticons." Starscream's clawed servos clenched together behind his back, but he dare not strike out at Shockwave.

"It would _serve_ our master well if we were to obtain the chemical formula that would insulate our systems from an electro magnetic pulse, _and_ make it possible to use such a deadly weapon against the Autobots," Starscream stood straighter then he had been previously, stepping in front of Shockwave even as another wave of heat erupted from the much larger mech's vents. Starscream's own feet snapped down on the metal platform, walking up to Soundwave's side as the silent 'con continued to examine the map in front of him. "And it would serve all our purposes if we could observe a proper maturity cycle come to fruition." Shockwave followed him, his own form towering over both Starscream and Soundwave. The three of them made up the hierarch of the Decepticon command. There were a few under them that they would give directions to, but other then Megatron they were in command of the Decepticons for the time being.

"Have you any information from Espionage?" Starscream turned, questioning Soundwave. The silent 'con returned his gaze steadily, merely rotating the servos in his neck from the left and then to the right before returning his gaze to the screen in front of him, marking several places on the map as he contemplated the information he was slowly gathering.

"It will be some time before Espionage will be in a position where he may report to us safely," said Shockwave, continuing where Soundwave did not. Shockwave looked down at Starscream, allowing a slight amount of irritation to crawl into his vocoder. "You must remember, Starscream, it was Megatron who gave him this mission through Soundwave. His primary concern is to retain his cover. Megatron expressed the importance of this before Espionage was deployed." Shockwave paused before he continued. "That and it will be of utmost importance to time the capture and subsequent exchange correctly. So rather then compiling data on a chemical formal the child may or may not have, _Commander_, I suggest that we continue our preparations. It will take time to create a proper chamber for Lord Megatron to be placed in during the exchange." Starscream seemed ready to argue, but with a slight turn of his head, his optics narrowing with a low whirr of noise, he nodded.

"Of course," said Starscream, "but keep me informed of the child's movements if you manage to fix a location." He turned and looked to Shockwave. "If nothing else she may be able to lead us to _them_." With that said the Seeker removed himself from their company, hands wrapped tightly behind his back, his shoulders up straight. He observed the drones as they worked his processor busy with plans to retrieve that formal in order to assert himself as the _rightful_ leader of the Decepticons.

The medical bay was deep within the bowls of the volcano, but also situated away from the intense heat. It would be foolish to perform delicate repairs on subjects who were unable to cool their systems. Such subjects where there now, lying on tables where they awaited repairs from a medic who was not entirely concerned with their well-being. Unless a higher-ranked Decepticon was awaiting repairs, often times their medic would wait for hours before performing even the most basic of repairs on those less damaged. At Starscream's, Shockwave's, and Soundwave's insistence however he would repair those who were highly damaged immediately, but of the late most of his attention was diverted to another subject of the utmost importance not that he could actively _do_ anything more then record vital stats, processor activity, and energy levels.

Starscream was alone in the medical bay at the moment. A perfect opportunity to reassure himself that his greatest threat was still deep within what the humans would call a coma; stasis so deep that he could not awaken himself. There was a spare room settled off to the side where repairs were done on the higher-ranked 'cons. That way they were left on their own to continue self repairs that were necessary and they were safe from any ill-felt comrades.

The doors slid open with a hiss, allowing entrance to Starscream. The second in command walked in, almost waltzing as a smirk crawled its way over his facial plates. There lying on an oversized berth was a mech that was larger even then Shockwave. His massive silver-grey form was intimidating even in such a vulnerable position. His spark chamber was opened, the vulnerable life-force of his master within an easy grasp. All Starscream had to do was reach out and crush the delicate mechanics within his master's chest, but he dare not. Soundwave had a way of knowing what went on within the base at all times. He could hear and see everything, so even now he was privy to Starscream being within the medical chamber with their master.

Megatron's spark was the root of his ailment. It's normally pulsating form was still. While normally a mixture of red and purple it had turned black. There were flecks of color here and there, but otherwise there were no signs of life even within Megatron's spark. Starscream traced his fingers over the armor that would have protected his master's most vital component. His clawed tips roamed over the machinery and cables deep within Megatron's chest, a rolling chuckle escaping his vocoder.

Oh there were things he wished he could say, but unfortunately he was forced to keep his comments to himself. His spark settled in its own pulsations. Every time he entered this chamber he expected to find Megatron standing upright, his hands over his chest, that same disappointed and disgusted sneer on his face whenever he laid optics on his second in command. Starscream inwardly winced imagining how Megatron would often beat him if anything were to go wrong. Often this was under extreme humiliation of his fellow comrades watching this process.

Starscream turned his back on his master, leaving the husk of what was once a mighty warrior behind him, exiting the chamber. The door closed with a slight hiss a new 'con inside of the opposite room looking up slightly in surprise before a contemptuous grin spread across his facial plates. Starscream ignored him, stepping past the red sports-car 'con and leaving the medical bay. He was not in the mood for a battle of wits with that particular 'con.

"_Starscream,_" a call came from Shockwave over his comm. system.

"_Yes, Shockwave, what is it?_" questioned Starscream, his voice snapping in irritation.

"_We are receiving a communication from Espionage. Soundwave and I assumed you would wish to be privy to the information he is–"_

"_Yes I will be right there, do _not_ begin his debriefing until I am present._" Starscream cut Shockwave off, stomping through the halls in his impatience. Perhaps he would soon learn of the formula's location.

A mildly blurred image stood in front of the three 'cons inside of the command center; it was a precaution so that if the Autobots should pick up the transmission they would be unable to determine who it was that had betrayed them to their enemies.

"Espionage, come in Espionage," said Shockwave, trying to sharpen the quality, for a moment the image and communication vanished completely, before it came in at the proper sound quality.

"Espionage to Decepticon base," said the figure. "Come in."

"We're here Espionage," said Starscream, "report your findings," he commanded.

"Greetings, _Commander_," said Espionage, Starscream grimaced. Espionage was one of Soundwave's lackeys. He held no real loyalty to anyone but Soundwave and Megatron. "Shockwave, Soundwave," he continued the greeting, the blurred image bowed very slightly. His voice took on another tone, mildly concerned. "Any news on Lord Megatron's condition?"

"Unfortunately," said Shockwave, "he is still unresponsive no matter the treatment we administer, but tell me Espionage; what of the human sparkling Tabitha?" Shockwave was particularly interested in the one child. Twice now he'd had her in his claws and twice he had allowed her to escape him. The first time he had assumed she was a human pet the Autobots had adopted and had administered a tracking chip into her bloodstream himself. If he had only known what true purpose she and the other three children had…

"Ah," said Espionage before he straightened. "The child has been returned to the Autobot base. They have increased security on the girl Tabitha and her siblings. They've restricted them to the deepest portion of their base. A frontal attack is _not_ recommended. New Autobots arrived just this last solar-cycle. Their numbers are seven-and-twenty."

"Twenty-seven Autobots," scoffed Starscream, "we have more drones they they have warriors." Starscream waved his hand in a vague gesture. "Continue. What of the Doctor's daughter? Kathryn Laski?" Espionage's image shifted slightly, almost as if uncomfortable.

"The Autobots have allowed her to leave their primary custody. Her remaining parental unit refused to leave her child in their care."

"Ha! Those fools," Starscream turned looking to the side. "Now all we need do is–"

"However," continued Espionage, "the child and her mother will not be returning home for some time. The Autobots sent a warrior with them and it seems they intend to take a month in returning home. With the Autobot in their company he is able to disrupt the tracking device the human John Wright was able to inject into her blood stream," he paused. "When they return home I have determined they will be almost impossible to access. Optimus has ordered that several of his warriors remain parked outside the residence at different mega-cycles of the day. He has yet to decide whether it would be best to bring the humans into Autobot custody. He is in the midst of discussions with the human authorities on this matter."

This news did not settle well within Starscream's scheming processor. It would be almost impossible for him to merely swoop in and take the human by force. If he could not wring the formula from the child it would be impossible for him to properly defeat Megatron when the time came. He turned away from the screen, not quite listening to what else Espionage was saying until he heard a single word. Starscream snapped himself around, eyeing the other 'bot on the screen.

"What leads you to believe _that_ piece of information?" questioned Starscream. A smug chuckle rippled from the 'bot on the other side of the screen. Starscream growled and slashed his hand across the air. "Do not mock _me_ Espionage, answer _my question_."

"I was _there_ Starscream," chuckled Espionage. "There is nothing to believe, I merely _know_." The chuckle returned, rolling into a laugh. "Who do you think it was that recommended using a _human_ template for Dr. Laski's experiment? Who do you think it was that was responsible for much of the science behind that experiment? It is true that the doctor was the one who discovered, and created the maturity cycle trigger and that I was not privy to that information, but everything else?" He continued to laugh. Starscream growled. He remembered just how much he hated this 'con. He may not be silent as Soundwave was, but he had the distinct talent of lying with the truth.

"Keep us up to date on the Autobot's movements Espionage," said Shockwave.

"Of course," said Espionage instantly calm. "Are the preparations for our guests nearly complete?" Soundwave nodded his head and keyed in a few commands to send Espionage the specs of the proper holding facility they had prepared for the new subjects.

"Ah, thank you Soundwave," said Espionage. "I will report once more in twelve solar-cycles. Optimus and the others have a training facility they are required to visit and I shall be left here to maintain radio communications for them."

"Understood, Shockwave out," the communications screen suddenly went black and then returned to the mapping system Soundwave was constantly using. Shockwave sent an enormous billow of hot air out of his systems. It was distracting during communications and he often refused to remove the heated air from his systems. Now his intakes were working overtime, attempting to cool down his systems after remaining overheated for too long.

The oversized Decepticon turned away from the primary screen, walking down the ramp to a chair situated for him off to the side. Alerts were blazing across his heads up display. Certain systems had come close to overheating and now he needed to take a moment and rest his servos. If he could maintain minimal movement he would hopefully be able to bring his internal temperatures down to a safe level. He sat himself down at his personal council, attaching several cooling units to his armor. Thankfully he had invented these units to aid his systems. As long as he remained still and gave his body time he would be able to continue his work.

Espionage turned away from his monitor. He was far away from the Autobot command center in a hidden bunker of his own. The red lights bounced off his flat-black armor. A pair of red eyes changed to blue, the armor warping and changing. As soon as his disguise was finished he shut down everything accept his alarm system. Should an Autobot or human stumble upon his private bunker… they wouldn't live to tell the others.

Just before he exited his bunker, his fingers tapped at a single screen and a cruel smile spread across his lip components. It was an image of a small family. A young boy, mother, father, and a single baby girl wrapped in her mother's arms; a slow chuckle escaped his body.

"We will see one another again, child. You may count on that. I owe your father much for his sacrifice and I will repay that debt."

Kathryn sneezed, her eyes squinting shut, ears ringing. It was the third time in a row. She rubbed her nose sniffling and coughing, sitting up in the hotel bed she and her mother were sharing. It was dark outside accept for the city lights, but they'd pulled the blinds shut so they wouldn't be disturbed by the light.

Pulling the blankets off her body carefully, doing her best not to disturb her mother. Once Kathryn had visited the bathroom and blown her nose, she stepped up to the window, looking out at the huge truck that was parked in front of their room. Guilt flooded her ribs, making her heart beat a little harder. Why had her mom spent so much money? Kathryn wasn't helpless; she could have gotten a job or used some of the money that was left to her from her father. She sighed, leaning against the window and looking down at her hands. She'd removed the bandages so her injuries could air out over night. The mauled visage of her hands made her heart trip. She winced remembering the pain, the fear.

A yawn ate at her concentration, her eyes blurring for a second, watering. With a stretch she winced, pulling at some of the sore spots on her body. It was another day tomorrow and every day that passed by it was easier and easier to forget about what happened. She and her mom were having fun on their road trip; Kathryn kept using the tools she'd been given to help strengthen her hands. Mostly they were like squishy stress balls. Between her mom and her they were able to keep the healing wounds clean and wrapped in bandage when Kathryn wasn't airing them out. It was actually hard to believe that she'd been attacked by… by what?

She still didn't have any answers.

With a shake of her head she turned away from the window and crawled back into bed, shutting her eyes and yawning. She was asleep in a few seconds, the warmth of the blankets lulling her into peaceful dreams until morning.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Home

_Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep…_ the alarm clock on the side of her bed was persistent. No matter how many time she hit the snooze button it continued to beep at her until Kathryn finally lifted her head up and out from under her pillow. Her hair was sticking up in each and every direction. Her eyes were blurred, sleep crusted the edges of her lashes and her mouth was set in a grimace. It was ten o'clock in the morning, but she knew she had to get up. She was scheduled to work at twelve o'clock until ten that night; one of her co-workers had called in sick so Kathryn had to pick up the extra shift.

With a cavernous yawn Kathryn pushed the forest-green sheets and comforter off her self, stretching up and yawning as she pulled her white tank down and yanked her boxer shorts up. A long angry red scar ran down the length of her leg from her hip to her ankle. It'd just closed up not even a couple of weeks ago. It'd taken the majority of the last ten months for it to get to that point. Kathryn had gone to the local physical therapy center every day when she first came home. She'd moaned and groaned about the whole ordeal the entire time until her mother threatened her with personal at-home assistance. That made Kathryn step back and just put up with the going to the hospital's center.

Kathryn looked around her room, noticing how messy the entire thing was. It smelled distinctly of fish compliments of her new job at the bait shop. Dirty clothes were tossed in one pile on one side of the room, moderately clean clothes on the other side. She'd need to do laundry tonight or she wouldn't have any clean clothes. Kathryn reached behind her and scratched at the lower section of her back, the scars in her hands pulling funny, but at least she could use them now. In the mornings they were kind of stiff and the tissue was still pink. Raw even; from time to time her hands would ache painfully reminding her of the ordeal she'd been through.

With a kick at her leather and steel-toed work boots Kathryn walked into her bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Dark circles under blood shot eyes; her face was pale and her skin clammy again. Another bad night, another nightmare; she closed her eyes shuddering from the memory. This one was the worst one yet, her hand closing tight and squeezing the shirt over her heart. She could still feel the phantom pain from the dream. Her eyes blurred, tears threatening at the brink, but she rubbed them away with a hand. It was just a damn dream. The pain she was feeling was from her heart beating too hard, and her hands and/or leg hurting while she slept. All logical reasons, but why was she so afraid?

"Stop being stupid," she said to herself in the mirror, glaring as she ripped the cabinet open and groped around for the Tylenol. She unscrewed the cap and popped a couple of pills in her mouth before she shut the door and took care of her other morning needs before hopping into the shower. The hot water sloshed around her feet, washing away the sweat from her limbs and plastering her hair to her skull. The hot water washed almost all her fears away and Kathryn found herself laughing hysterically at how she'd been acting. There was no way for her heart to randomly pull from her ribs and she was safe at home, there was no reason to be afraid. Her hand reached out and hit play on her CD player, cranking up the music until she felt the beat coaxing away the rest of her fears.

As soon as Kathryn felt clean and her muscles had relaxed she turned the water off and stepped out onto the soft rug and wiggled her toes through the light blue carpet fibers, wringing her hair out with a quick twist before snapping her towel off the counter. Drying everything else off was easy, but when she started to run the towel down her leg she grimaced. The skin, muscle, and other tissues were still very tender. It didn't take much to cause an ache to form in her leg. Her hand ran down over the angry looking scar and grimaced at the lump of scar tissue at the top of her hip. It certainly wasn't pretty, but she always believed scars told stories. Not that she could tell the story without seeming crazy.

After drying off the scar she added the medical lotion the doctors had given her. Supposedly it was designed to help limit the scar tissue growth and to keep her skin from tightening too much. As it was meant for her hands as well Kathryn didn't bother wiping her hands off on a towel afterward and proceeded to get dressed. Her 'ensemble,' as her mother sarcastically referred to it as, was a pair of blue jeans with multiple pockets, a white tank top, a black sweater and mix-matched socks from off the floor. Once her scarred up work boots were on she also stuck a pair of black leather gloves into her back pocket. She'd taken up to wearing them whenever driving the truck or her motorcycle to protect her sensitive palms. She had another pair of work gloves at the bait shop; they made it easier for her to hold onto things and to keep people from commenting on her hands.

_I wonder how Tabitha is doing, dealing with what she's been through_, Kathryn wondered, not for the first time. When she'd first woken up she'd needed time to deal with her own trauma, but at the back of her mind she always wondered if the emergency personnel had managed to get the eight year old to safety. She'd never found out. Looking down at her hands Kathryn clenched them. Her grip was weaker then it was before. _They better have gotten her to safety_ _or… or what? Would that really change how I feel?_ Kathryn shook her head slightly, unclenching her hands and using the right to trace over the scars on the left. _No_, she thought_ I would have still held onto that… that _thing_ so Tabitha could get away._

Satisfied with her own answer Kathryn snatched her iPod off the desk and traipsed downstairs for breakfast. She'd planned last night to make up some pancake mix and make pancakes for both her and her mother, if her mom was up. She'd been acting weird lately, paranoid. It was strange, but Kathryn had a feeling she was having a slight relapse. William had told her shortly before he moved out that with the loss of their father a few of mom's screws had been loosened. There was a time when all she could do was look at the picture of his face. She'd talked about a few different times she thought she'd heard him talking to the family vehicle and for a while, until she'd sold it, she was certain it was watching them. After a year of counseling and the need to raise her family Kathryn's mom had snapped out of it, but after Kathryn's near-death experience it might have pushed her mom too far. So she was doing everything she could to show her mom that she was alright and quite alive hoping to stop the episodes before they started.

Today she was going to do the pancakes from scratch, they always tasted better that way and then her mom would have something ready to make up for dinner that night if she didn't want anything new. After getting the supplies on the counter Kathryn plugged her iPod into the speakers she'd set up in the kitchen for whenever she cooked. Her mom was still upstairs asleep, but it wasn't long before Kathryn heard the annoying sound of her mom's cow-shaped alarm clock and the spit of the shower.

"Hmm, now let's see," Kathryn said, pulling out the recipe card. She planned to make enough batches for 8-10 servings so there would be plenty extra for dinner or breakfast again tomorrow. Kathryn melted down the butter and added in the flour, sugar, salt, and baking soda, mixing all the dry particles together before adding the eggs, milk, and finally the butter before adding a dash of vanilla to add a bit more flavor to everything. She normally preferred to beat everything by hand, but her skin was still too sensitive to hold onto the whisk, so she pulled out the mixer and started it up. Everything mixed together into a brown batter while Kathryn got the frying pan ready. She sprayed it down with Pam before she turned the music down. She'd heard the shower shut off and knew her mom didn't appreciate loud music in the morning.

With a quick snap of the 'on' button Kathryn got her mother's coffee brewing and pulled the maple syrup out of the fridge and placed it in a cup to heat up. Cold syrup on hot pancakes just never sat well with anyone in her family, so she zapped it lightly in the microwave to bring it to a warm temperature. She was just pouring the first pancake into the frying pan when her mom came down and poured herself a cup of coffee, pulling the creamer out of the fridge and mixing it into her drink. Kathryn rolled her eyes. Sometimes she swore her mother mostly used creamer and barely had any actual coffee in her cup.

"Morning," Kathryn said, carefully wiggling the spatula under the pancake and flipping it over. The one side was a soft flaky golden brown and smelled heavenly. "Did you sleep ok last night mom?" Her mother grunted in reply. Really there was no living with the woman until she'd finished her first cup of coffee. So instead of pushing further Kathryn unplugged her iPod and flipped the pancake back over. Both sides were golden brown so she plopped it on a plate and buttered it for her mom before bringing it to her with the cinnamon and syrup. She set it down next to her mom without a word and went to cook up another one. To this one she added a little bit of cinnamon for herself into the batter when it hit the frying pan, just to give it a little extra flavor. They didn't have chocolate chips.

"Mmm," her mom mumbled appreciatively through a mouthful of pancakes, "made from scratch?"

"Mmhmm," confirmed Kathryn. "did you want some orange juice or anything?"

"Just a glass of ice water please Kat," her mom said, using Kathryn's rarely used nickname. Kathryn plopped her own pancake onto her plate and turned the burner off before getting two glasses of ice water from the fridge. Balancing her plate on one arm and carrying the glasses she set them down at the table before sitting down herself. Kathryn rubbed at her left eye slightly, yawning a little bit.

"Another bad night?" her mom asked, looking over at her daughter. Kathryn shrugged her shoulders and played with the syrup she'd poured onto her pancake before gently tapping her glass of water with the other end of her fork. Her mom waited quietly. If she waited long enough her daughter would tell her what was going on. Instead she returned to her own food, cutting a small square out of the pancake and dipping it into her syrup. Her patience paid off a second later as she heard the long drawn-out sigh of her daughter.

"Yeah, it was." Kathryn said finally.

"Another nightmare?" her mom asked.

"Yeah," said Kathryn, pushing a bit of pancake around on her plate. "They're getting worse."

"The doctor said you might have some P.T.S.D. symptoms for some time," her mother said reasonably. "It's part of the survivor's guilt he mentioned I think." Kathryn shrugged her shoulders and finally took a bite of her pancake. It stuck in her throat when she tried to swallow, but she finally got it down.

"I really don't think it has anything with post traumatic stress disorder mom," said Kathryn. "The dreams have nothing to do with what happened." Well they did, but she couldn't very well tell her mother she was afraid of being ripped apart by giant alien robots and they _had_ to be aliens. There was too much intelligence in those horrible eyes of theirs, the way they communicated, called one another by name. Anything man-made would never be that smart. The closest thing they had to Artificial Intelligence was only as smart as a five year old child still; as far as she knew anyway, but she could be wrong.

"Hmm," Kathryn's mom said before she got up, "I'll be right back." Kathryn looked up at her mom with a confused expression watching her go out to the other room where she kept her purse. After a few moments, during which Kathryn ate her pancake and gulped down her ice water, her mother returned with a small bundle in her hands. There was a simple red ribbon tied to it and she was smiling softly.

"I don't know if it will really help, but one of the ladies at the parlor said that this can help bring good dreams," she said while handing the bundle to Kathryn. Kathryn looked down at it, letting her fingers run over it. Whatever it was it was really hard. With a slight put-upon sigh she unwrapped it to find a type of purple crystal stone inside of it.

"Amethyst?" she asked her mom, unsure what it might be.

"Mmhmm," her mom said, "it's supposed to help ward your dreams, something about some seventh chakra, protection, and healing. I thought that, since you don't want to take sleep medication, you could try this. It was this or the dream catcher, but since the dream catcher is native and I don't want to insult anyone by buying one at a store so I decided on the amethyst." Kathryn smiled slightly and rubbed the amethyst between her fingers. The stone was smooth on the crystals, but the actual rock bumped against her sensitive hands.

"Thanks mom," she said. Reaching forward Kathryn surprised her mom by initiating a hug. Kathryn had been extremely sensitive about close quarters with people lately, so it was special when her daughter reached out to embrace her.

"You're welcome sweet-heart," her mom whispered into Kathryn's hair, trying to hide the tears that were threatening to drip from her eyes, but then her nose wrinkled. Even though Kathryn had taken a shower it was nearly impossible to get rid of the smell of fish.

"If you really want to thank me," her mom said, "you can quit that awful bait shop. You come home smelling like fish and worms every night." Kathryn sighed slightly and looked up at her mother. At five foot two Kathryn wasn't very tall at all and her mother's five foot six easily towered over her.

"I'll quit the job if you let me pay you for the truck," she said. Kathryn hadn't left that one point alone for the entire ten months that she was healing. Kathryn had gotten the job just so she could get something to dangle over her mother's head. If her mom would allow her to pay her back for the truck Kathryn would quit her job and go to college like her mom wanted, but if her mom didn't let her pay for the truck…

"Like hell," her mother said, suddenly becoming crabby again. "I bought you that truck so you wouldn't be crazy this winter and think you could go out on that damn motorcycle of yours." Kathryn grimaced. Yes she had needed the truck and had hesitated to buy one for herself, but it just didn't sit right that her mom had paid for it. "Besides, it was a get-well gift, can't you just accept that? You won't even let me pay the insurance on it!"

"That's because," said Kathryn with exasperation, "if it's going to be _my_ truck then I have to pay for the insurance just like I pay for the insurance on my bike mother." Kathryn looked up at the clock and sighed. It was about half an hour to noon. Where had all the time gone? With a sigh she leaned up and kissed her mom on the cheek and turned away. "I need to get my stuff and head to work alright?"

"Only if you're taking the truck," Kathryn's mom said. Kathryn groaned and looked outside at the beautiful day. The first one in a long time that they'd had. Winter time was so dull. Nothing interesting to do this year because of her healing injuries, but she didn't want to push her mother. She'd wait until spring really hit.

"Yeah ok," she said. Kathryn walked out to the living room and scooped up her black backpack from the couch. For a moment the end of it opened up and dropped everything out unceremoniously onto the floor. "Aww damn it," growled Kathryn, kneeling down and picking up her pencils and books. Her mom came in a moment later and scooped up one of the sketch books.

"You didn't tell me you'd started drawing again," her mother said, flipping open the sketch book before Kathryn could tell her not to. Kathryn froze in place waiting for her mother to say something, to say anything. Instead her mother's eyes widened, her pupils contracted, and her face paled. By the time she'd gone through the whole journal her hands were shaking when she handed it back to Kathryn.

"A-are you alright?" Kathryn asked worriedly, watching as her mother wrapped her arms around herself. When her mother remained silent Kathryn stepped up and touched her on the shoulder. Her mom jumped, looking up at her daughter.

"Wh-what?" her mom asked as if she hadn't heard Kathryn.

"Are you ok?" Kathryn asked again. Kathryn was feeling a little worried and glanced down at which sketch book her mom had gotten hold of. Her heart dropped. It was the one where she'd been drawing out the strange aliens. They were shaky and she doubted she had them down pact, but there was enough there. Several of her memories had been splattered on the page with crimson inks and black markers.

"Yeah," said her mom all of the sudden. "I'm fine, but you better get going or you'll be late to work." Kathryn's mom leaned forward and kissed her daughter on the brow. "I love you."

"I love you too, mom."

How _long_ was she supposed to be on the phone with this guy? He was going on and on about the difference between wax worms or just regular crawlers. What did it matter? Northerns bit on _everything_. The damn fish would bite at a plain hook if all it did was touch it. So why was this guy so concerned over trying to catch northerns on bait? Lures worked the best, that's what her boss told her, but he didn't seem interested in talking to her. On top of all of that it was nine thirty at night and she had to finish the clean up. Mr. Braxton did not enjoy paying her overtime. Today was simply because someone had been sick, but staying late to do the cleaning? Kathryn would have her hours cut for sure.

"_No_ sir," she said for the thousandth time, "I've never actually gone fishing for Northerns. Mostly it's just for trout out on the lake." By 'the lake' she meant Lake Superior. That was one of the few cool things her boss did. Once a year, about two weeks after the fishing opener he'd take his employees out on his big boat; Kathryn had been lucky to be hired just in time. He'd completely outfitted her for free. One of the 'perks' he said, to working at a bait shop. The others told her the old man had been hitting on her. That was the only fishing she'd done, and even then she hadn't caught anything. Her hands had still been too sensitive to hold a reel. That'd been last month; Kathryn still couldn't believe it was almost June again. The summer season would be starting really soon.

"Sir, maybe these are questions you should be asking my employer," she suggested. "He's more knowledgeable about fishing then I am," she stopped to listen, allowing a grimace to cross her face. "Yes I understand you'll be leaving early in the morning, but sir," she stopped again, the man becoming angry on the other side of the phone. "Yes sir, I understand but," again he interrupted her, "Sir, please don't yell at me," she said more firm. "I've already told you I've never fished specifically for Northerns, honestly this is my _first_ year ever going fishing and," He had paused, seeming to calm down, before an obscenity was spit at her over the phone and the line went dead.

With a snort and a sigh Kathryn again returned her arm elbow-deep into the tank she was cleaning out. There was green slime all over the edge; she'd drained the water out, but that only made the smell worse. She was wearing a long rubber glove to protect her hands, but that only made the job harder. Kathryn had to get this done, feed the fish on display, and then take care of the garbage outside before she could close up and go home. Thankfully it was raining lightly out and no one was interested in going out night fishing. She'd sold quite a few lighted bobbers the night before because of the full moon and the warm spring weather, but tonight there was a storm front moving in.

"Yuck," she growled, pulling out a hand full of slime. Thankfully it was the last handful of algae and she could bring it outside and give it a hose down and wash it. It was a little wet outside with the rain, but thankfully there was an eve she could stand under while she worked on it.

As soon as she was finished cleaning the tank she went back inside, set it up on the new display for bait and went around to the different aquariums. There were several different types of fish on display so the kids could see what they would be fishing for. There were a few bass, lake trout, splake, brookies, muskies, sunfish, and others. She tossed some smaller fish in with the northerns and muskies, but then added something a little more humane in with the other fish. Also on display were some fresh water jelly fish that her boss had found up closer to the Grand Marais area of Minnesota. Supposedly it was an important sign to show that the lakes were warming up and the algae was populating so much that these rare jelly fish were now being found by the hundreds. Unlike their salt water cousins, she'd been told, the fresh water jelly fish had no sting. That was because, evidently, the salt water jellies got their sting from the salt content of the water. Kathryn had no idea whether that was true or not.

"No matter how 'interesting' they are," said Kathryn, "_I_ wouldn't want to swim with them." She gathered up a set of garbage bags and slung them over her shoulder before walking out into the rain. It was letting up just a little, but she could hear thunder off in the distance. Hopefully she closed up without any last minute customers. She wanted to start her days off. The feeling of something vibrating in her pocket caught her attention when she was pulling out a full trash bag from outside. Kathryn pulled her phone out and hit SEND, taking only a second to see that it was her mom calling her.

"Hey mom," she said.

"Kathryn," her mom said, her voice shaking. "You can't come home tonight." Kathryn laughed.

"Mom, as much as I'd like to find a place of my own, you're the one who said you wanted me around until I decided on a university."

"_No_," her mother said. This time she sounded upset. "You can't come home, do you hear me Kathryn? You can't. There were strange men here just a few minutes ago. They said you were in danger and they needed to speak with you. Go…" her mom broke off for a second. "Go to the summer cabin and stay there for a few days. I'll have William call you alright?"

"Mom, calm down," Kathryn said, her temper getting the best of her. "Those were probably just a bunch of college punks trying to pull a prank on you alright? A really stupid prank, but it was still a prank." There were a few people who knew about the issues her mom had. Some of them had pulled this kind of crap on her before. They'd often come to the door and say something along the lines of 'Are you Mrs. Laura Laski?' to which her mother would answer yes and then they would proceed to tell her that her husband or one of her children were dead. Of course this ended when Kathryn's father died and they played the prank right afterward. William had called the police and had the jerks arrested. Kathryn's mom chose not to sue, but Kathryn wished she'd at least pressed charges. It'd become a 'right of passage' among some of the college freshmen from out of state to come down to their house and pull something on them.

"Listen, mom, I'll be home as soon as I close this place up. I'm sure Mr. Braxton will understand alright? Just hold on until I get there and if you want we can go get a hotel somewhere for the night. We'll get one of those fancy ones you like, with the spa, and you can get a pedicure and we can just relax in a hot tub or something and order room service ok? That way you can have some time to relax and you'll know I'm safe," Kathryn was trying desperately to get her mom to calm down on the other end of the line. If she found out whom the bastards were this time _she_ would press charges and make sure they did time for their stupidity and _then_ she would talk to the dean of the school and make certain they were expelled.

"A-alright," Kathryn's mom said. "I'll lock the door though; you know where the spare is."

"That sounds fine," Kathryn said with a sigh of relief. "Have a bag packed and I'll come pick you up in the truck. It'll be nice and warm and you can take a bit of a rest alright?"

"Alright," her mom murmured. "I love you Kat,"

"I love you too mom. I promise I'm alright ok? Just a little pissed off that they'd do this to you." Kathryn growled under her breath before letting her mom hang up the phone. She quickly stuffed the new bag into the garbage can and changed out the second one. Running inside she left a note for Mr. Braxton explaining that someone had gone by her house and was terrifying her mother and she'd had to close early. She explained that she'd finished organizing and pricing the new lures, cleaned out the new display tank, and changed the trashes. Then Kathryn locked the front door, grabbed her bag and spare jacket, before exiting out the back and climbing into her truck.

It was a twenty minute drive to get home, during which time Kathryn thought about the actions she'd take to make certain people would leave her mother alone. As much as she hated using the money her father left her, and it was a sizable amount, Kathryn planned to have security cameras and a security system installed on the house as soon as she got her mother out of it. She'd call up the people to do it tonight and pay them double as long as they could get it done in a couple days. That way at least she would have video proof that those kids were messing with her mother again.

Sure enough, the moment Kathryn pulled up the roar of her large diesel truck moving down the street caught the attention of four well dressed college pricks and a pair of police officers. Kathryn pulled her truck up off to the side and shut it off, slipping her back pack on. Pulling the keys out she used the fob to lock and turn on the anti-theft. She was absolutely fuming. Her hands clenched making the leather rub, eyes glinting when she opened her mouth, but before she could let in on the teens she noticed how hot it was and the smell of smoke. Her eyes moved up and away from the boys and the officers and landed on the house her mother and she shared.

Fire crackled, licking at the air out of windows and doors. The fire department was there attempting to hook up the fire hose to the hydrant across the street. Where there had been a hydrant on their corner was a deep crater. The fire department was required to hook up to the hydrant on the other side of the street and the damn hose wasn't long enough!

The wood was starting to blacken at the edges. The rain sizzled when it came near the flame, popping and snapping whenever it came near the wood. The wood that was already wet cracked open, the water expanding suddenly. Kathryn felt like her heart was burning as hot as the house. Before the cops could say anything to her she was running along the sidewalk, compensating for her injured right leg with the left. She approached the house, seeing the firefighters outside, but there were no signs of her mother. The fire fighters tried to stop her, their hands reaching out, fingers glancing against her clothing, but no one managed to react quick enough. Kathryn ran up, running to the back end of the house which hadn't quite caught fire yet and burst through the door.

"_Mom_?" she called into the house, coughing and gagging against the smoke. She felt her stomach twist into knots, her leg started to throb, her hands felt like they were burning. _NO, no_, Kathryn thought, falling to her knees, her head spinning, _not now, not now. Hold it together damn it all you don't have time to panic!_ Kathryn slapped herself with the palm of her right hand hard enough to jerk her own head to the side. With a grunt of effort she pushed herself up, doubled over from the cramps in her stomach. It didn't matter what her mind told her body, she was still afraid that she was going to be attacked at any moment.

Reaching over to the side she pulled a towel out of the laundry basket. She quickly got it wet the moment she entered the kitchen and covered her head and mouth. Kathryn's eyes stung, burning. Ash and heat assaulted the sensitive optics and she was forced to squint her eyes when she walked up stairs. The fire was getting worse the longer she was in there. It was eating away at the up and downstairs at an extreme rate. Kathryn thought, through the towel, she smelled some kind of alcohol or something else. She couldn't tell.

"_Mom_?" she yelled again, "_mom where are you_?" she coughed against the smoke, making it upstairs to her mother's room. She pulled on the door, but it was locked. She tugged on it again only to realize there was heat radiating from the handle. Kathryn yelped and stepped back, her right hand throbbing in pain. She turned around desperately, trying to think of where her mother could be.

"_Mother!_" she screamed, struggling to move forward. It was so hot, so hot. Kathryn felt her stomach knotting further in fear. She stepped forward only to scream as a beam of wood fell from the ceiling. It crackled and popped, forcing her back against the side. Another explosion of wood and other personal belongings sent her flying down to the first floor.

Kathryn landed on her back, the breath being knocked out of her, but something else caught her attention. Fire had started on her left pant leg and with a strangled yelp she quickly pat it out with her gloved hands, wincing at the pain as her palms struck against her calf muscle. The fire had already devoured the upper floor like some greedy monster. The wood falling from its flickering jaws like blood as it ripped into the stairs. Kathryn called out again, coughing and hacking against the smoke and ash.

_No, no, no_, she thought, pushing herself up and trying to move to the back guest room. Her mother had to be here, she had to be somewhere. The fire had just started, where could she have gone? Damn it all where was she?

A strong pair of arms wrapped over Kathryn's arms and ribs, pulling a breathing device up against her mouth. Kathryn fought, striking out at the one who held her, but his grip was iron tight. He dragged her out, lifting her up off her feet and pulling Kathryn backwards towards the back door.

"_Damn it she's still in there you dumb ass_!" Kathryn yelled at him, striking him with her elbows. "_Let me go!_"


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Run

"Miss, miss!" the fireman yelled, trying to pull her back out of the fire. It'd been crazy for her to rush in. "Miss you have to come with me, it's not safe!" He had to bodily lift her up and carry her out. Not a massive feat, the girl felt like she weighed nothing. The mask he'd put on was a precaution against smoke inhalation. He'd snatched it off of the fire engine when he'd followed the girl inside.

"No, no, she's _still in there_!" she screamed at him. She was doing her hardest to hurt him, but the bulky orange and yellow fire suit took up most of her blows. His arms stiffened around her, tightening his grasp on her as he lifted her up over some of the broken furniture. If he could get her outside where she'd be safe he could go back in and look for–

_"Mom!_" the girl cried out. "_Mom where are you?_ Damn it let me go she's still in there, let me go!" This time her hand pummeled his mask. Battering her hands against it she twisted in his arms and started punching and kicking him. With a grunt of effort he finally pushed his way out the back door, dragging her out in front of the house where the emergency crews were located. The emergency officials came running over to him, their white uniforms soon soiled by the ash that covered both the fireman and the girl. It took two of the emergency crew to hold Kathryn back, pulling her by the arms. She struggled, kicking, screaming, and cursing them out to let her go. It didn't matter how hard she fought though, when a third crew member came up and grabbed her around the waist Kathryn knew there was no way she was going to get back into the house. Her body finally collapsed in exhaustion, letting the ambulance crew carry her back. They placed an oxygen mask over her face and a blanket around her shoulders. She refused to take her backpack off and sat anxiously awaiting for her mother to be rescued.

Seconds passed like minutes, and minutes felt like hours before there was a sudden roar and with a bone-crunching snap the roof collapsed on the house she'd known as her home for her entire life. Kathryn watched, her mouth slightly agape, as the flames devoured everything she'd ever known.

Kathryn couldn't move. Her body felt frozen. The roar of the fire wasn't just in her ears, it was in her mind. She thought she'd heard a scream, thought she'd felt it curl through her blood and the marrow of her bones. Pinpricks at the back of her neck signaled the hair standing on end. She felt her arms and legs ripple. Kathryn felt cold when the heat of the fire was almost enough to burn parts of her skin. Her nails bit into the jeans on her legs, digging in until it hurt. One or two of them felt ready to break, but they were ignored. They were nothing compared to the pounding of her heart.

Voices, were they talking to her? Kathryn couldn't understand what was being said. A hand was laid on her shoulder, words murmured in her ear. She was supposed to stay here? Yeah… yeah alright. She'd stay here… here, right here. Where it was burning; where everything was _burning_. It was all burning; everything. Her mother, her mother was burning away. Why couldn't she…

Kathryn felt herself starting to shake. Her entire body rocked back and forth, her eyes refusing to blink even though they were dry and stung. Her stomach, already knotted, convulsed and she turned to the side just in time.

With her head spinning Kathryn pulled herself up, letting the blanket drop from her shoulders. Her hands were clasped tight, her fingers digging into her palms. How could this have happened? They were _safe_ here. Nothing had happened for the last ten months. Ten effing months! How could, there wasn't… there wasn't any reason behind it.

"You shouldn't have run," whispered a cool voice behind her. Kathryn turned around slowly, almost uncomprehendingly. She didn't want to stop watching the fire. "This is your fault you know," the man said again. Her eyes refocused, looking up into a familiar face. "She's gone because you couldn't accept who you belong to."

Kathryn was looking up into the face of the man she least wanted to see. John Wright. He stood there, three other men behind his back, a strange looking blue SUV and red sports car behind him. They hadn't been there before. There were another group of men surrounding her truck, strange looking guns drawn on it as if they expected it to just get up and walk away on its own when the keys were in Kathryn's pocket. Even more strange men in the same black uniforms were surrounding the fire-fighters and ambulance crew behind her. Where had they all come from?

"She's _dead_ little kitty-Kat," said John, his hand came up and caressed her cheek, gently brushing his fingers down her neck; wiping some of the ash away from her skin. He moved his hand back up to her forehead and brushed some of her hair behind her ear. "Now, if you're a good little Kitten and get in the car, I promise no one else will be hurt." His hand spanned the width of her neck, tightening down on her and trying to push her forward and for a moment it seemed as if Kathryn was going to comply.

_Dead, DEAD? No, no, she can't be dead. Not dead. Not dead. How is it my fault? How did they know? Who are they? Why are they here? How could _they_ have… they… they…_

"_You_," Kathryn hissed, ducking down and under John Wright's hand. He stopped in surprise, looking back at Kathryn. If it were not for the firelight being behind her he would have sworn he saw the reflection of the flames in her eyes. Her hands clenched tight, every muscle in her body twitching, _screaming_ at her to move. To do something other then comply with the man who'd _murdered_ her mother.

"You _son of a bitch_," she spat, but before he could retaliate with words Kathryn brought her right leg up. Her steel toed work boots still fastened tightly to her feet. The metal tip connecting with the man's crotch with an audible _thump_; Kathryn gave a twist of her boot, pushing him away from her with added force. She heard the satisfying sound of air being expelled from his lungs, his body hitting the ground before she turned her back and ran for the family garage. John Wright struggled to force himself up off the ground, growling at his men when they tried to help.

"_Get her_," he snarled, pointing in the general direction Kathryn was running. She reached the garage, grabbing onto the outside door and ripping it open with a yank. It was separate from the house, so the fire hadn't managed to damage it or its contents yet. Locking the door behind her Kathryn turned to her old motorcycle. It wasn't as strong of beefy as her truck, but it was the only option she had right now.

Strapping on her helmet and throwing her leather jacket on she could hear the men fighting with the door and she was positive someone would be standing out front waiting for her to open the garage door. Oh well. Kathryn jumped onto her bike, flicking the kickstand up with a grunt of pan running up her right leg. She started the engine with a roar, her hands tightening on the grips. She revved the engine several times, keeping the break on before hitting the open button for the front door.

Just as she thought, there were several men standing in front of the door, weapons drawn. Several red dots covered her body, but none of them were over vital areas. Kathryn revved the engine again, the motor roaring. Wright stepped up in front of his men, staying a distance away. There was no limp in his movements, much to Kathryn's displeasure. He held a hand up, as if cautioning her not to move, but she revved the engine again.

"You have no where to go," said Wright. "Get off the bike, now. Or you'll be forcing my hand." Kathryn remained where she was, his men aiming their weapons at her. Her eyes traveled behind him to the blue SUV and the red Sports car. Both of them were crawling up her drive. Inching closer and closer; her eyes returned to Wright, her hand tightening on her handle grips. Number one rule if you're being kidnapped: Make as much noise as you can, fight as hard as you can, because if you get put in that vehicle alive there's little chance you'll be found that way.

"Screw you," she said her voice hitching, not nearly as strong as she'd meant it to be. Now was not the time to get upset, but she could feel the constriction in her chest, the pull of her throat a she choked back the tears that wanted to fall; both from anger and grief. Wright stepped closer, hearing the distress in her voice. Kathryn revved her bike hard enough this time that the wheel spun slightly. Her break hand loosening when Wright stopped, bringing his hands up and opening his mouth. Before he could get a single word out Kathryn opened the throttle all the way, her left hand releasing the break and spurring the bike up onto one wheel, jetting forward. She'd never tried doing this before; Kathryn just prayed she'd be able to hold on.

The bike landed hard on the front tire, barreling past the other men. They didn't have time to pull the triggers on their weapons as a silver Pontiac ripped up and over the curb, cutting them off from Kathryn's escape path. The men shouted and the growl of a finely tuned sports engine cut over the noise; Kathryn making her way back down the road. She turned her body around as much as she dared, glancing over her shoulder as the slick red sports car and the SUV burnt out of her drive, their back ends swerving one way and then another as they raced out onto the road after her.

With a glance down at her Kawasaki's speedometer Kathryn realized there was no way she could out run either vehicle; in fact she didn't have a chance in hell. She was only just hitting forty miles an hour when the SUV pulled up along side her, the sports car moving up on her left hand side and in front of her. Kathryn pulled on the handle bars, trying to swerve off to one side. Her tires skidded faintly when she had to hit the break, the red vehicle in front of her moving with her bike.

Her hands ached from gripping the handles of the bike, the red car in front of her slowing down, the metal warping slightly. Kathryn blinked her eyes, watching as portions of the vehicle now stuck out. Kathryn looked to her side as the blue SUV allowed itself to slow, moving towards the aft of her motorcycle. It too started to change shape slightly, the front of the vehicle almost opening up. Her eyes widened her mouth opening. Was it _laughing_ at her?

Squealing breaks assaulted her ears. Kathryn flinched, bringing her head in close to her shoulders, looking up to find the bumper of the red car approaching her quickly. The bumper hit the front of her bike tire, pushing it, tilting it. With a yell and a tug of effort she pulled it back up straight, standing up in her seat. The red car was trying to make her crash!

"Hit 'er again Knockout!" yelled a voice from behind her. It was deep and menacing. Kathryn looked back, but with the feeling of ice dripping into her stomach she realized the SUV had no driver. The front had opened completely and she was getting closer. Another bump hit the front of her bike, Kathryn's arms jerked down and to the side. Her left leg moved out, pushing off the pavement to try and bring herself back up, but she could already feel the wheel of her bike turning the opposite direction, she was sliding, moving on top of the bike, her left leg pulled up and over the tank at the last minute. They were only two blocks away from her house, two blocks. That was all it had taken for them to out maneuver her.

Her bike bounced, something moved behind her, feet digging in the ground, too close to the SUV at this rate she was going to tumble right _into_ it! _No, no, no, no!_ She thought, trying to pull herself up, she felt metal passing by her side, something sliding out, grabbing her shoulder. Her eyes closed, her heart pulsed in her throat, her stomach knotted.

A tremendous screech of metal on metal hit her ears. Kathryn went tumbling with the bike end-over-end, skidding across the pavement where the SUV use to be. A huge red blur passing her by like a bi-pedal tank, its form ripping out from the Ford truck her mother had bought.

"G'day mate," it growled, a strange sword ripping through the metal of its fist, cutting across the other vehicle's side. Kathryn finally came to a halt, gingerly getting up onto her feet, headlights illuminating her petrified stare when she bent down to grab the handles of her motorcycle. The engine of the sports car revved, its chassis moving up off the ground, two legs, arms, a chest, and a face erupting from the metal, a long fingered hand reaching out.

A green blur dropped down from the sky; smashing down onto the red car and picking it up. The red use-to-be car was thrown back up the street towards her home, but just as it came down again its form changed back into the red sports car. The green giant stepped over Kathryn, the car approaching; engine growling.

Kathryn bent down, picking up her damaged bike and starting the engine again, pulling on the throttle and pulling her legs up. She bounced over the shattered pavement, standing when it got too hard to direct her bike through the battle. There was a mild explosion behind her; she felt something causing the ground to shudder.

Looking over her shoulder she saw another one of the monsters, this one the same color as the SUV. Kathryn hardly had time to hit the break when its foot snapped down in front of her. She tilted the bike to the side, the tires spinning and dropping to the side for a second time.

"Thought you could get away?" the thing asked her. He stepped forward, his knee bending. She tried to scramble back, her leg caught under the bike as blunt fingers brushed against her side.

"Oy, I wasn' dun with you yet," said the same voice as before, heavily accented. Kathryn flinched as the red monster tackled the blue, their limbs smashing together with sparks flying. One of them hit the power line, cutting all the light off from the street. Again, Kathryn pulled her bike up, throttled it and tried to make her way down the street. It wasn't that much farther to the highway, and rather then allow them to catch up she pulled the throttle all the way back, pushing the bike as fast as it could around the sharp corners.

Lights flared in front of her, a police car screaming down the highway, but at this point Kathryn didn't care to stop. Like hell. Those _things_ from before had changed from normal vehicles into monstrous robots and this police car had all the wrong colorings. It had two doors rather then four. Most of the police vehicles in Minnesota were white, this one was black. She went roaring past it, her motorcycle's engine snapping loudly, the exhaust pipe slightly bent. The police cruiser whipped around, the back tires squealing against the pavement, the _whoop-whoop_ of its siren starting up. Kathryn cursed, looking back at it through her mirror. The build of the vehicle was all wrong; it wasn't a local police car. She wasn't stopping, but going out onto the highway no longer seemed like a brilliant idea. This car could out run her old bike within a quarter of a mile and if it was the same as those others, she was dead.

Kathryn twisted her handles, sliding along and drifting the bike back around another corner to move deeper into the city. If she could get down some of the smaller alleyways she'd be able to outmaneuver the bulkier car, but she had to do it quick. There weren't nearly as may vehicles on the road at night as there were during the day.

The car followed, gaining on her whenever they reached a straight stretch, taking the main freeway up to the mall. Kathryn pulled on the throttle, swerving into the on coming lane whenever she could, dodging the fleeting traffic and creating as much of a barrier as she could.

Another siren, more lights, a white police car this time drove up along her side. Kathryn's throat tightened, swallowing when she noticed that again there was no driver. A familiar face engraved on the side of the vehicle. The vehicle didn't slow her down, instead it hit the breaks, sliding itself beside the black cop car, slamming into its side and forcing the black vehicle to spin. The sirens wailed once, twice, before shutting off, the white car spinning and driving back to the black one.

Kathryn kept her eyes forward, watching the faint scuffle between the cars in her mirror, but when she turned the corner she brought her eyes up, watching the road before turning her bike, moving to a parking lot next to a large building. She ducked in behind it, looking for an area to hide in for the next few minutes to give her heart time to settle down.

Ducking between a pair of rank dumpsters, Kathryn pulled her helmet off. Sweat flew from her hair when she flicked her head back, plaiting her hair against her skull while she panted. Her breath came in ragged gulps, inhaling the foul smelling air greedily. Her hand switched the key of her bike to the 'off' position, ducking down when she heard the familiar roar of a fine tuned engine. She pushed herself and the bike behind one of the dumpsters, flinching when a pair of headlights illuminated the pavement directly in front of her.

It was the red car. She could still see the design on the door, the sleek form slowly cruising past on an off-road. It was far enough away that the headlights didn't even touch the pavement directly in front of her. Kathryn waited for it to leave before she dare breathe again. Inhaling and coughing at the smell of the dumpster she was hiding behind.

It was another ten minutes before Kathryn dare make any move. She pushed the bike slowly out from her hiding spot, listening to the distant sound of vehicles smashing together. Obviously the combatants had found one another again. With a push she walked the bike over towards a near-by bank. She had to get out of town and she had to do it now, but she was going to need cash. Thank goodness the banks had all-night ATM's.

Kathryn pulled her wallet out of her backpack, amazed that it was still on after everything that'd happened. With her wallet out she scanned her debit card through, punching in her pin code and selecting the amount she wanted. She did this twice, each dime withdrawing five-hundred dollars. As soon as she had a thousand dollars stuffed away in her wallet she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dropped it on the ground. No way was she going to let them find her that easily.

After a quick dig through her pack, making certain she still had the spare change of clothes she always brought to work with her, Kathryn started the bike up and idled down a side-street, keeping as quiet as she could until she felt safe enough to open the throttle one more time.

"Where am I supposed to go?" she asked herself out loud. Riding down the freeway to the exit that would lead her up to Bemidji, she knew that there were several different freeways that would connect and bring her to towns that were most likely safer then the one she was in right now. Smaller towns and big cities where she could hopefully find a hotel to stay in for a little while; at least until she figured out a plan of action. Kathryn didn't dare go to their families cabin in Ely, but she could pass through there and go all the way up to Grand Marais before making her way back down and through Duluth. They wouldn't expect her to go towards another country only to sink deeper into the one she was already in would they? It would be along drive, going up to Bemidji and then taking another route down through Virginia and back through Two Harbors, but if she could stay for a week or so in that tiny town up north she might be able to make them loose her trail. She'd never been there before, so why would they think to look for her there?

The hardest part now was getting out of Duluth without being spotted by one of those robots.

Her heart felt like it had been permanently lodged in her throat. Kathryn made her way up on the freeway, moving past the Walmart and the movie theatre, and the Harley Davidson store. She passed by several 24/7 gas stations, but she was full on fuel for now, and could hopefully make it to Bemidji before she'd need to gas up, but she wouldn't use her card, instead she'd use the cash she had and then maybe the day she left Grand Marais she would stop at another ATM and pick up more cash. If her bank was open she could have pulled out even more money so she wouldn't have to keep skipping around using different ATM's, but if she used her card they would be able to trace her movements. It was simple for a human to do, and something as alien as a giant robot would find no challenge in tracking down one specific debit-card number unique to her bank account.

The same went with her cell phone. She wanted to call the police, but had chosen to leave it behind. Every cell phone came with a GPS locator now. That too could lead them to her location. If she felt the need to call someone, anyone, and warn them she'd have to use a pay phone or ask someone if she could use their cell phones, but she didn't even dare do that.

Kathryn's side started to ache where she'd slid across the pavement. She knew that after a while she'd have to stop and rest, even if it was just on the side of the road, hidden in the woods. If she could just get to Bemidji, or even one of the towns along the way, she'd be able to get a hotel room for the night and sleep, but for now she had to put as much distance behind herself and her home as possible.

_Why did they come after me after all this time? I didn't think they were after _me_, I thought they were after Professor Cross and Tabitha. I didn't even know them before all of this._ Kathryn's mind was a jumble when she pulled off onto the road that would lead her to her destination. It was a four hour drive, but with the night clear and the roads dead it wouldn't take her nearly as long, she just had to be certain not to be pulled over. That would be a red flag declaring: here I am! Come and get me!

A pain in her chest reminded her of what had happened before the attack. She could still feel the heat of the fire moving against her skin, could feel the ripple effect of that sound; when the roof collapsed. Her mother, Jojo, everything in her life had been in that house when it burned. If her mother was gone all she had left was William, and she couldn't reach out to him for support. If she lost him too because of this…

No, this was her problem. She had to handle it, it wasn't fair. Her brother had taken care of her all his life, it was her turn to try and return the favor by staying out of his. She only hoped he could forgive her for what she'd brought down on their family.

Tears, hot and salty, slid down her cheeks and against her lips. They stung when they hit the skin there, chapped and cracked from being inside of the burning building. Kathryn could feel the throbbing in her right hand from grabbing the hot handle on the door. The leather was scarred from the heat and the rest of her body wasn't doing any better.

She felt so small. So small and insignificant; if all those _things_ had to do was reach down and scoop her up into the palm of her hand, what chance did she have of fighting back?

The answer? She didn't have a chance, the only chance she had was to run and keep running until they either stopped chasing her, or she was caught.

Chapter 10: Autobots


End file.
